


Owls and Souls, Witches and Resonance

by Jarl_of_the_North



Category: Soul Eater, The Owl House (Cartoon)
Genre: Action, Action and Adventure will come soon guys, Action/Adventure, Adventure, And I will Leave it at that for now, And Maka doesn't know how to feel about that, Angst, Angst and Fluff, Boiling Isles Fear Death, Boiling Isles Fear the Reaper, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Dealing With Divorce, Dealing with Being Borderline Disowned, Dealing with Divorced Parents, Dealing with Estranged Parents, Dealing with Parents that Never Married, Dealing with being an Accidental Child, Demons, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationships, Don't Fear the Reaper is Banned in the Boiling Isles, Eda is Good Owl Mom, Eda is Owl Mom, Family, Family Angst, Family Drama, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Human Souls, I promise, Kishin Egg Souls, Luz is Maka's Half Sister, Magic is reliant on Soul Wavelength, Maka's Mom is not a Good Mom, Maka's Parents are in their mid 30s, Multi, Other tags to be added later, Owl Mom, Owl Mom is Good Mom, Slow Burn, Spirit is Trying, Spirit is Trying to be a Good Dad, Spirit is Trying to be a Good Dad Really Hard, Spirit is Trying to be a Good Dad WAY TOO HARD, They've been aged up here, Witch Souls, Witches, boiling isles, camilia is a good mom, eda is a good mom, good mom, seriously slow burn, this might take a while
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:07:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 76,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27760504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jarl_of_the_North/pseuds/Jarl_of_the_North
Summary: We all know the story. The Witches held a nigh unbreakable sway over the world, abusing their magical powers with reckless abandon until the Grim Reaper led a war upon them with humanity, breaking their hold and defeating their evil... but, perhaps, the tale is not so clear cut as the history books say. This is the story of a Death Scythe's daughters, and the people they love.
Relationships: Kinda Writing This as I Go, TO BE DETERMINED - Relationship
Comments: 63
Kudos: 60





	1. Death Scythe's Daughters

**Author's Note:**

> So. First time I've ever actually posted here.
> 
> I'm fairly new to this site; the Jarl of the North, normally a Fanfiction.net writer. I've been considering getting into Archive of Our Own as a writer and since this is a new story of mine (I've been writing for quite a long time now), I figured this would be a good chance to check it out.
> 
> I'm considering bringing other stories of mine here as well, so I'm sort of testing the waters.
> 
> Before I forget; this story was inspired both by my craving for more Owl House, but also by Evilsnotbag both on this site and on deviantart, and by Issabolical on Deviantart. 
> 
> Specifically, I was inspired by Evilsnotbag's Lunar Eclipse Owl House AU (found here: https://www.archiveofourown.org/series/1765585), and by Issabolical's piece of crossover fanart for Owl House and Soul Eater (found here: https://www.deviantart.com/issabolical/art/SOUL-EATER-X-The-Owl-House-856387469).
> 
> Please go and check them out. Seriously, their artwork and writing is phenomenal.
> 
> With all that out of the way, let's deal with the disclaimer.
> 
> I do not own Owl House or Soul Eater.
> 
> But by God, I love them both.

_Azura leapt back and landed in a deep crouch, eyes narrowed, sky blue hair and white robes swept back as she stared up at the great serpent before her; she had heard stories of his might, but they paled to capture the true, colossal strength of the Great Serpent, Gildersnake._

_As massive as any Dragon, Gildersnake’s coils stretched for miles beneath the entirety of the Fireplume Mountains, his fangs longer than any spear, crimson eyes flashing against his soot-coated scales, dyed blacker than even the night sky devoid of stars._

_“ **FOOLISH CHILD,** ” the Serpent hissed, a simple shift of his weight enough to cause the rivers of lava far below to shift and rise in a tidal wave, “ **I COULD SWALLOW YOU WHOLE!** ”_

_Azura took a deep breath through her nose, rising to her feet with her grip tightening on her staff. She pointed an accusing finger at the gigantic creature, “Do not underestimate me, Gildersnake! For I am the Good Witch Azura, Warrior of Peace!...”_

_She waited but a moment longer. Her ultimate technique was finally ready._

_“… NOW EAT THIS, SUCKA!!!” she raised her Celestial Staff, slinging it up and over her shoulder as she dropped to one knee, the crystal aimed directly at the Great Serpent as it abruptly tripled in size, the weapon glowing with incredible destructive power gathered over the course of centuries in its resting place – and every last second of it, every last ounce, aimed directly at the soot-blackened snake,_

_It struck with such tremendous force that Gildersnake’s scales gave way in an instant; it bored straight through flesh and bone, and into the vulnerable organ beneath._

_The destruction, from there, went unseen, but from how the Great Serpent thrashed and writhed in its immense death throes, causing the mountains themselves to shake, Azura knew that it was more than enough._

_“ **NO! MY ONE WEAKNESS!** ” Gildersnake cried, “_ **DYING!!!** _”_

_He fell into the lava below, quickly sinking beneath the surface of the glowing orange ocean._

_Azura allowed herself a small smile; she hadn’t been certain when she entered the Fireplume Mountains to confront the Great Serpent, but ultimately, she had prevailed._

_Now, peace would finally return to the land…_

“… and that’s the end!” Luz Noceda quipped cheerfully, lowering her Azura doll and the still very much alive snake, which she had brought as props for her assignment.

Her Mother, and Principal Renyold, stared at her in a long moment of uncomfortable silence.

“… the end of what?” Mom asked, tone one of genuine confusion and concern.

“My book report!” even though the snake had latched its fangs into her Good Witch Azura doll, Luz kept her brown eyes strictly on the adults in front of her; in her experience, adults didn’t like it when she paid attention to anything other than them during a “serious conversation.”

Nonetheless, she beamed; despite the fact that she had been deprived of ninety percent of her props, including her paper mache castle, mountains and caverns, complete with tomato sauce for the lava, Luz fully believed it when she said “I think I knocked it out of the park!”

Principal Renyold let out a tired sigh, pointing to the door, “Your book report is the reason why you’re here.”

The ‘again’ went unsaid, and a spike of disappointed frustration shot through Luz’s stomach.

It had all been so clear in her head; all she had to do was verbally present her book report in front of her class. That was easy, no big deal! It wasn’t as if Luz had stage fright or anything like that; she’d auditioned to be Juliet in the school play!... even if she hadn’t gotten the part… the sausage link intestines had seemed funny at the time… seriously, Romeo and Juliet was a farcical comedy about dumb teenagers, not a tragic love story about star crossed lovers… why was Mrs. Nameno so upset?...

Luz had gotten everything she needed. She’d memorized her script. She’d gathered her props. Anything she didn’t have a substitute for, she made from scratch. She even made sure to reread the parts of the Good Witch Azura that she didn’t like, just to make sure she wouldn’t skip them.

The only things that were missing were her backup snakes.

She’d looked for them everywhere; in her bag, in her desk, even asking for the chance to slip out to her locker just to make absolutely sure she hadn’t left them in there, even though she knew she hadn’t.

Eventually, though, her turn came up, and she had to step up to the front of the class without the safety of having a stunt snake for the action scenes, or a backup snake in case her primary snake got ill or stage fright.

But that was okay. They couldn't have gone far. She’d just find them after class. What was the worst that could happen?

Then Mr. Maclain, her English teacher, took one look at the snake in her hand, and the fireworks in her backpack, and sent her straight to the Principal’s office without even letting her present.

She had been sat down outside the office, listening to Principal Renyold’s muffled voice through the door on the phone, knowing that Mami would be called in from work at the hospital.

Again.

That she would be lectured.

Again.

That she would be told that she needed to reign herself in.

_Again._

Luz looked out the window built into the door; almost immediately, two kids ran past, each screaming as the snakes that had latched onto their heads held on with every ounce of might they could muster with their little jaws.

“Oh,” she kept her tone light, trying to play it off as she looked back at the Principal, “That’s where the backup snakes were...”

“And what were you going to do with this?” her mother lifted the rather hefty bundle of fireworks, larger than a particularly well-fed corgi.

“That was for the act three closer…” Luz said, feeling herself deflate as her eyes fell to the floor.

“ _Mija,_ ” Mami began, setting the fireworks down, “I love your creativity, but it’s gotten out of hand. Do you remember why you were in the principal’s office the last three times?”

How could Luz forget? It seemed like everything she did got her in trouble, in some way or another; she’d been ridiculed for the aforementioned “Sausage Guts” incident by Mrs. Nameno for “mocking the Bard’s greatest tragedy of star crossed love” (even though it was clearly a comedy about stupid teens doing stupid things).

Luz’s anatomically correct griffon had seen no end of grief, earning her lectures for stitching together taxidermied animals and filling them with spiders to replicate a creature that “didn’t exist naturally” (despite Dad providing her with plenty of evidence to the contrary).

And then there was the cheerleading team tryouts, where Luz hadn’t even done anything – all she’d done was turn her eyelids inside out for a few seconds and everyone started screaming like she’d committed murder. Actually, ALL those incidents had everyone screaming like she’d committed murder.

And, moreover, caused everyone in school to keep their distance from her.

“We all love that you love to express yourself,” Mom began, “but if you can’t learn to separate fantasy from reality, you may need to spend the summer here.”

She held up a pamphlet, and Luz felt a heavy stone of dread fall into her stomach as she read the cover.

_Camp Reality Check._

_Think INSIDE the box!_

Luz had to keep herself from swallowing; she forced a bright smile, “Don’t worry, Mom! I won’t let you down!” she leapt out of the chair to her feet, pumping her fist, “From now on, NO MORE WEIRDNESS!”

She only realized her grip on the snake was too loose when it leapt from her fingers, jaws opened wide, towards Principal Renyold. He screamed as the snake latched onto his nose, causing him to fall backwards out of his chair to the floor.

Luz’s eyes went wide with horror as she looked to her mother, “… that doesn’t count, right?”

It took only one glance at her mother’s disappointed expression to know the answer to that question.

… it was days like this where Luz was truly jealous of Maka.

* * *

“Forty two, forty two, five six four, whenever you want to knock on Death’s door,” Maka Albarn’s voice was despondent as she stared into her reflection in the wall mirror of her shared apartment.

It had been nearly an hour since they’d gotten back. It was well after midnight; Maka’s grey hair had been let down, and she stood in her nightgown, green eyes narrow and her forehead pressing into the glass of the mirror.

Soul stood off to the side, having done away with his jacket and headband, hands stuffed in his pockets and red eyes half lidded; despite his slouched posture, Maka could feel the frustration rolling off him in waves.

Not that she could blame him. She was feeling the exact same way.

They had been _so close._ They had ninety-nine Kishin Egg Souls. They were _one step_ away from turning Soul into a Death Scythe. They had defeated the Witch Blair, and were on the threshold of success. They would have been the youngest Meister and Weapon pair to ever create a Death Scythe, younger even than Maka’s own mother.

And it was all for nothing.

Because it turned out Blair wasn’t even a Witch.

She was a _cat._ A cat with magical powers, mind you, but a cat nonetheless.

Which meant that all the effort they’d made over the past year was completely wasted.

“… you sure you wanna do this tonight?” Soul asked, tone oddly calm despite his quiet anger, “You can put it off until tomorrow. Do this with a cool head.”

Maka let out a quiet snicker, “You and I both know I don’t really do “cool” like you do, Soul.”

“You take my point,” he smiled, showing his sharp teeth, “Fact is, neither of us are in a very good headspace right now. We report to Lord Death now, we’re probably gonna get lectured for failing. Are you really okay to deal with that right now, after the night you’ve had?”

She hummed, leaning forwards against the side table, “I’ve been wondering that since we started heading back, Soul. And frankly… I’m not sure I’m getting much sleep tonight anyways. I just want this over with.”

“… alright then. Do your thing.”

“... forty two, forty two,” Maka began, writing the numbers into the mirror, “Five six four, whenever you want to knock on Death’s door.”

The mirror rang out, going dark, shimmering like ripples in the water. After a moment, it cleared, and a visage of an inky black silhouette stood, jagged and only humanoid in the vaguest possible sense, stood before them, a bone white mask with three “teeth” and holes to represent eyes and a nose. Behind him, a beautiful blue sky arced overhead, pockmarked with clouds that slowly shifted at random with no discernable pattern… and an endless desert stretched out behind him, marked with countless thin, jagged black crosses, an infinite number of nameless grave-markers, but for whom, neither Meister nor Weapon could guess.

“Hello, Lord Death,” Maka tried to hide the misery in her voice beneath her usual chipper tone, “Scythe Meister Maka Albarn and Demon Weapon Soul Eater, reporting in.”

“ _Hello, hello!_ ” Death’s voice echoed back, high pitched and cheery as ever as he bounced back and forth, “ _Good to see you both safe and sound, Maka, Soul!_ ”

“That’s one way to put it,” Soul sighed, stepping closer to the mirror, until he was standing right beside his partner.

“… unfortunately, sir,” Maka began, “We… we failed to recover an actual Witch’s Soul. Instead… we wound up targeting… a magical cat.”

A moment of silence passed before anyone spoke further.

“ _I know,_ ” Death’s tone was not scolding, or mocking. If anything, his tone was one of… understanding?

Maka bowed, low as she could, arms ramrod straight at her sides, “As the Meister, this is my responsibility. I should have been able to recognize our target wasn’t a Witch. I-”

“ _Now, now,_ ” Death chided, raising a large, boxy hand in an appeasing gesture, “ _… slow down, Maka. I don’t believe that you or Soul are responsible for this._ ”

Maka blinked, raising her head.

“We're not?” Soul asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“ _Of course not,_ ” Death shook his “head,” letting his hand fall back into the inky blackness of his form, “ _If anything, the responsibility falls more on my shoulders for giving you permission to attempt the hunt in the first place, without properly verifying that there was an actual Witch in the area._ ”

Maka had fully straightened her back now, eyes wide. There wasn’t going to be a lecture? They weren’t in trouble for this?

They weren’t going to be punished?

“ _Even as I watched you fight, I could tell there was something distinctly off about your target. It isn’t uncommon for Witches to not take young Meisters and Weapons like yourselves seriously, but even taking that into account, she lacked the ruthlessness most Witches have. Against a true Witch, they likely would have killed you outright in the first encounter,_ ” Death explained, “ _Your target essentially played with you without any true malice. She never intended to kill or even hurt either of you. Moreover, she could have corrected you at any point and told you she was not, in fact, a Witch, and saved everyone a good deal of hassle._ ”

“… but she didn’t,” Maka squeaked, the gears in her head turning.

“… so you’re telling us that she didn’t tell us she wasn’t a Witch, and humoured our attempts to kill her despite being strong enough to blow us away at any point… because she wanted a playdate,” Soul managed, tone low, exasperated, and defeated.

“ _That’s exactly what I am saying, Soul._ ”

The Demon Weapon let out a low groan, bringing a hand to his forehead, “I put two and two together already… but hearing it confirmed like that somehow only makes it all worse.”

“ _Don’t beat yourselves up too badly over this!_ ” Death’s voice became jovial once more, “ _You both did admirably against an opponent that outclassed you quite considerably! You’ve proven that you are among the most capable pairs in your year. Possibly even among older students, as well! The Academy is proud to have you both!_ ”

“… so… if we aren’t in trouble…” Maka began, “Then what happens now? Do we still lose all the Souls we collected?”

Another pause, before Death let out a sigh of his own.

“ _The Witch’s Soul is incredibly important to the process of turning a Weapon into a Death Scythe, Maka,_ ” His tone was lower now, more deliberate, “ _And unfortunately, magical or not, a cat’s Soul does not supply the same sort of “oomph” that a Weapon needs to make that jump._ ”

“Can’t we just remove it from the batch?” the Weapon asked, “Try again later?”

“ _As it stands, no. The fact that Weapons eat the Kishin Egg Souls they recover means that those Souls all affect each other. That cat Soul you ate has effectively contaminated the whole bunch you’ve collected,_ ” the Reaper bowed, his voice filled with regret, “ _I am sorry, to the both of you… but the fact of the matter is, the Souls you have collected are no longer capable of creating a Death Scythe._ ”

“So we’ll have to start again from scratch,” Maka moaned, bringing her hands to her face, “I can’t believe I screwed this up so badly…”

“Hey,” Soul reached out, gently gripping Maka’s shoulder, “That wasn’t just on you. We both messed this up, so don’t go blaming yourself.”

“ _As I’ve said,_ ” Death interjected, “ _a good deal of the responsibility rests on me. At the very least, I could have double-checked my list while I was watching you fight. Were you older students, I might have expected you to be more perceptive regarding the true nature of your opponent, but young as you are, it would have been unfair to expect you to be able to tell the true nature of a Soul at a glance._ ”

“But we’ll still be starting over,” Maka stated, rubbing her eyes.

“ _Well…_ ” the Grim Reaper tilted his head, “ _I was going to propose some sort of compensation. You both have put in an incredible effort over the past year; it would be a shame for it to all go to waste over a screw-up that wasn’t even yours._ ”

“… so you’re going to offer us Souls collected by others? Is that it?” Soul crossed his arms, eyes narrowing slightly.

“ _Recently, Dark Arm Meister Black Star and Demon Weapon Tsubaki collected the Kishin Egg Souls of an entire mob family out in New York. Al Capone and his cronies, ninety-nine in total,_ ” Death mused, “ _I offered to let them keep all those Souls, but they refused, on account of them not having assassinated the mob themselves. So we have ninety-nine Kishin Egg Souls with no one to claim them._ ”

A long moment of silence passed between the three.

“ _As the one who gave you permission to attempt to hunt a Witch, and directed you to a faulty target in the first place, I think it only right that I offer these Souls to you,_ ” the Reaper’s tone suggested a smile behind that silly mask, “ _Even if you refuse, I will make sure your efforts are recognized._ ”

Maka and Soul looked at each other, still silent; though neither said a word, an entire conversation seemed to pass between them as they stared into each others’ eyes, a myriad of subtle expressions shooting across their faces in a matter of seconds.

Confusion. Curiosity.

Pride. Shame.

Finally, Soul let out a breath, breaking his gaze and closing his eyes as he leaned back against the wall.

“… can we have a day or two to think about it, Lord Death?” Maka asked, “I think Soul and I need to talk before we can decide on this. And it’s been a long night; I don’t think either of us really want to talk right now.”

“ _Of course, of course!_ ” Death sing-songed, “ _I’ll have you get back to me soon. Just keep in mind this is a one time offer! If you refuse, they’re gone for good!_ ”

“Yeah, of course. Thank you, Lord Death. Have a good night.”

With that, the mirror went dark.

“… I’m going to bed,” Soul sighed, scratching the back of his head, “I’m exhausted. It’s a lot less cool to stay up this late than I thought it would be…”

“We’ve had a long night,” Maka rocked back on her heels, “We’ll talk about Lord Death’s offer in the morning.”

“Yeah,” Soul turned, and padded into the hallway, “Night, Maka.”

“Goodnight, Soul.”

His bedroom door creaked open, and gently closed behind him. Left alone, Maka turned to look into the mirror once more, her reflection staring back.

“… well, I can officially say I’ve screwed up harder than Luz now…”

* * *

“WAIT, MAKAAAAAAA!”

Death let out a tired breath as Spirit Albarn came rushing through the gates of guillotines, screaming at the top of his lungs. The Death Scythe rushed past the Grim Reaper, and slammed his face into the mirror, “MAKA, IT’S NOT YOUR FAULT SHE WASN’T A WITCH! YOU CAN STILL MAKE A DEATH SCYTHE! PAPA’LL FIX IT! PAPA WILL-“

A single, well placed Reaper Chop was enough to leave Spirit nearly silent, weakly croaking as he slid down the surface of the mirror to the floor.

“The call has already ended, Spirit,” Death lectured, blowing on his smoking hand as if it were a revolver, “And I very much doubt that Scythe Meister Maka is in the mood to chat with you.”

“… aaaaaahahahoooooowwwww…” Spirit groaned, slowly pushing himself up off the floor. Unsteadily, he got to his feet, staring into the mirror, “… I just wanted to tell her everything would be alright…”

“I’ve already reassured Maka and her partner that they have an option available,” Death said, “Even if they don’t take the Souls collected by Black Star and Tsubaki, their grades will not fall as a result of this incident. If anything, collecting a new set of Kishin Egg Souls will count as extra credit.”

“I know.”

Spirit’s voice was oddly firm as he turned to look at the Reaper; Death and Death Scythe held each others’ gaze for a long moment, the former inscrutable, the latter unusually serious. If anything, one would say he even looked downright grim.

“… I know,” he repeated, sighing, his gaze falling to the floor as he stuffed his fingers in his pockets. He closed his eyes, his red bangs falling over his face, “I just… I want to be a good father. I have a responsibility to be there for my daughters, regardless of whether they’re sailing forwards with flying colours or if they’re on the down and out. I know you asked me to let you explain it, but…”

“… with all due respect, Spirit, I do think you could be doing a significantly better job on that front,” Death tilted his head, tone nonchalant, “I mean, don’t you think Maka’s attitude towards you should tell you something?”

“… please don’t rub it in, sir,” Spirit whined, clutching his handmade Maka doll to his chest.

“I’m not trying to be cruel. Don’t forget that I’m a father as well,” Death reminded, “I’ve sought your input many times in helping raise my own son, and you’ve been an invaluable resource in regards to helping maintain my connection with him. I’d go so far as to say you’re practically his Godfather.

“But I think it’s time for you to take one of the most helpful pieces of advice you have ever given me to heart yourself.”

“And that is?”

“Recognize that your daughter has set a boundary.”

Spirit felt his fists clench; quickly, he pocketed the Maka doll, trying to ensure he wouldn’t treat it like a stress toy even by accident.

When he did not give an answer, Death continued, “As a direct result of your own recent actions, Maka has decided she wants to maintain a sizeable distance from you. I suspect the only reason she speaks to you at all is because you are a Death Scythe, and thus within the same professional body as the career she is pursuing.

“I understand that this is painful for you, Spirit; I can only imagine how I would feel if Kid were to do the same to me for any reason. But if you honestly want to repair, or at least not cause any further damage to your relationship with your daughter, then I would suggest respecting Maka’s desires. Chasing after her, being overbearing in the way you have, is only going to drive her further away.”

The Death Scythe bit his lip, still staring listlessly at the ground. Slowly, he crossed his arms, “It’s so hard to stay away, though… and it seems like just yesterday we were still reading together in the living room…”

“I have been around for a long time, Spirit. I have seen a good deal over the years, and I can tell you this: Nothing worth cultivating – or fixing – can ever be done in a day,” for the first time, Death extended not a harsh chop, but a gentle hand, lightly clapping his red headed Weapon across the shoulders, “I can’t guarantee that Maka will come around. And even if she does, things are never going to be the same between you. You’ve destroyed your relationship with her. But the chances of you actually being able to repair that relationship will be higher if you don’t continue pushing your luck with her.”

“… yeah,” Spirit’s voice was a whisper, barely audible above his own breath.

“… speaking of daughters, how _is_ Luz?” Death ventured, trying to move on to a more cheerful topic for his Weapon, “Is she still calling you regularly?”

At this, Spirit looked up, a slow, small smile crossing his features as he took out a second handmade doll – this one bearing tanned skin, brown eyes, and dark short hair, “She is, actually. A few weeks back, she actually asked me for help regarding a science project.”

“Oh?”

“She was supposed to build an anatomical model of an animal. But she didn’t want to make one based on an everyday creature; she wanted to make a griffon.”

“A griffon!” Death mused, his tone light, “Those are a rare sight, these days.”

“I know. Getting source material for her was tricky; I really had to go digging through the library to help,” Spirit gently stroked the doll’s dark hair, “I managed to get her everything she needed though.”

“I imagine the spider breath must have been tricky to pull off.”

“Believe it or not? She actually managed to get it to work.”

“Really?” an actual laugh from the Reaper this time, “She sounds like quite a clever girl.”

“She is. She really is,” Spirit sighed, “Unfortunately, her teacher didn’t seem to think so. She got in trouble for the way she did her assignment.”

“… oh. Well, that’s unfortunate.”

“Apparently griffons don’t constitute as ‘real animals’ these days,” the Weapon snorted, “I can understand that the successful spider breath with actual spiders was maybe going a little far, but _really?_ Griffons, not real? They’re _endangered,_ not _fictional._ ”

“Well, you do have to remember that most schools aren’t quite as unusual as the DWMA. They probably don’t teach about things like griffons there,” Death nodded sagely, “But even so, I would believe that an anatomically correct griffon would deserve at least an A minus. One with functioning spider breath, an A or A plus.”

“ _Right?_ ”

Abruptly, a cheerful tune rang out, singing out the lyrics from an old cartoon Death didn’t recognize, but Spirit knew all too well; he dug into his pocket, and took out his phone.

Across the screen was a photo of Luz, mouth wide open in a squeal of delight upon seeing what Spirit had wrapped for her birthday.  
He always loved seeing that look on her face. Every time he managed to get enough vacation time to visit, he always did his best to bring that expression back.

There was one thing that worried him this time, though.

“… Lord Death, can I take this?” he asked, tone solemn.

“Of course, Spirit,” Death nodded, “Don’t keep her waiting.”

Spirit nodded, and then started down the guillotine gates, bringing the phone up to his ear.

Death returned his attention to the mirror; immediately, an image appeared in its surface, and he began to re-watch Maka and Soul’s battle against the magical cat.

“It’s strange,” he mused, “I could have sworn there was an actual Witch out there…”

* * *

“ _Luz?_ ”

“… hey, Dad,” Luz sighed, staring listlessly up at the ceiling. The dim nightlight in the corner of the room served as the only source of light in the room, casting a faint, but warm glow throughout the room. She’d slid under the covers, arms outstretched, her phone propped up against her ear with a pillow.

As usual, her alarm clock remained upturned, as the bright green light a nuisance that kept her awake even on the best of nights.

Tonight wasn’t exactly a good night.

“ _What’s up, kiddo? You’re not usually up this late,_ ” he started, “ _It’s well past one in the morning here. For you it’s gotta be… almost four._ ”

“Couldn’t sleep,” she confessed, “And… well, I really wanted to talk.”

“ _Well, I’m listening,_ ” the Death Scythe assured, “ _Is something wrong?_ ”

She closed her eyes, the memories of the day flooding back; the silent trip in the car after being sent home early. Barely being able to pay attention to the words on the pages of the Good Witch Azura. Trying anything and everything to get the punishment for her book report out of her head… and failing. It loomed over her like a giant on the horizon, every second drawing her closer to it, not so much a car on a highway as a runaway train, with no other track to jump to in hopes of escape.

“… I got in trouble again.”

“ _… oh,_ ” the concern in Dad’s voice was palpable, “ _What happened?_ ”

“I went too far with my book report,” she grumbled, rolling onto her side to stare at the black screen of her phone, “My backup snakes got loose… I got in trouble for bringing live animals and fireworks into school.”

“ _… gee. Well, I’m sorry to hear it,_ ” Dad sighed, his voice calm, soothing – not scolding. Never scolding. When was the last time he’d even raised his voice with her? “ _… but it’s not like the punishment can be that bad, right? You got a little overenthusiastic – that’s_ normal. _It’s not like you hurt anyone._ ”

Luz felt her face scrunch as frustration and sadness welled up in her stomach in a boiling pit of axiety. Her hands clenched the bedsheets, and she could feel her nails even through the fabric.

“ _Luz? You still there?_ ”

“Kids got bitten,” she admitted, “The snakes weren’t poisonous, but… well, they were a lot less happy to be in school than I thought. And when I lost track of them…”

“ _… oh._ ”

“Yeah. Oh,” she repeated.

“ _… so, what happened?_ ” she could tell from Dad’s tone he was trying not to immediately assume the worst.

“… I’m getting sent to a summer camp once the school year ends in a couple weeks. Camp Reality Check,” she pushed herself up, sitting back against the wall. Why couldn't’ she just sit still? “I’ll still get all my grades and everything, but… I have to go to a Camp that’s supposed to teach me to reign myself in.”

“ _… well, that’s…_ ” he trailed off, clearly unsure what to say. What could he say, really, to make her feel better? Tell her this was better than being suspended or expelled? That it was for her own good?

Unseen by his daughter, Spirit shook his head. No. No, he couldn’t tell her that. She was already feeling miserable enough. She’d most definitely already heard that, too many times already.

“ _… I’m sorry, Luz. That… that’s rough._ ”

She gave a light, affirmative ‘hm’ of agreement, letting her head fall back against the wall.

“ _… is there anything I can do for you? Tonight, tomorrow?_ ” he asked, “ _I should be able to visit soon. Maybe… we can meet up before you have to go?_ ”

Luz bit her lip, pulling her legs up to her chest. Should she ask?... she knew what the answer was probably going to be. But at the very least, it couldn’t hurt to make sure… right?...

“ _Luz?_ ” he asked again, “ _You alright?... you want to talk in the morning?_ ”

“… no, I’m fine. Just…”

“ _Just?_ ”

“… _Papi_ … do you think you could get me into DWMA?”

She heard his breath hitch, the sudden inhale making her heart plummet; for a long few moments, the only evidence to Luz that Dad hadn’t hung up was the fact that she could still hear his breaths.

“… I don’t want to go to this summer camp,” she managed, her voice low as she struggled to keep it from warbling; despite her efforts, she felt, more than heard it crack, “I don’t want to have a reality check. I feel like fitting in means I’m going to have to give up everything I love doing. I’m… I’m _scared. I don’t want to._ ”

“ _… I know, Luz,_ ” the Death Scythe assured, “ _I know._ ”

“DWMA has summer classes, doesn’t it?” she asked, “I can start with those. I’ll stay out of the way, I won’t get in trouble, I _promise_. Just… please…”

“ _Luz,_ ” Papi’s voice grew stern, but remained gentle, “ _… you know you wouldn’t be in my way. And if you somehow got into bigger trouble than Black Star or Soul, I would be very, very surprised. You’re enthusiastic, not a troublemaker. You understand that, don’t you?_ ”

“… yeah,” she sighs, a small weight lifting from her stomach; a tiny relief, “I understand that.”

“ _I’d happily give you room and board if you ever came here. I would love to have you around; you’d have to play a bit of catch up, but I know you. It might take a couple of months, but I know you’d work hard in order to get yourself up to speed,_ ” the pride in his tone was almost enough to completely turn Luz’s mood around; she had sat up again, holding her phone against her ear, the small hints of a smile on her face… but as he trailed off, she felt it falter.

“ _… but, you know that isn’t my decision,_ ” Dad reminded her, his own tone sullen, “ _Your mother has full custody over you; whether or not you can come here is ultimately her call. And… well, I think you know what she’d say to sending you to another state. Much less DWMA._ ”

Luz’s eyes fell closed and her jaw set as she took in a long, slow breath, letting her head snap back into the wall with an audible thud as relief turned to resignation. She didn’t bother to stifle the whine that escaped her, instead opting to curl in on herself again.

She knew what Mami’s answer would be.

“... it can’t be that dangerous, can it?... Maka’s younger than me by a year, and she’s attending.”

“ _The difference there being that Maka has been learning to use her Soul Wavelength for quite a while now,_ ” he pointed out, “ _Unfortunately, you’ve never had the chance to learn how to do that._ ”

“I can learn,” she insisted, “You said yourself I could catch up.”

“ _And you could. I’m not disputing that, Luz, not for an instant. You’re a very capable young woman. But you have to understand – DWMA isn’t the place you go to if you’re hoping for a normal life. It’s a_ training ground… _and I can’t say I blame your mother for not wanting to send you here. Being a Weapon or Meister isn’t the safest career path._ ”

“… I know. But at least I’d fit in without having to stop being… me.”

A long, heavy silence hung between them.

“ _… tell you what, Luz,_ ” he began, his tone optimistic, “ _I’ll talk to your mother about this in the morning, okay?_ ”

Her eyes shot open, here heart skipping a beat, “You will!?”

“ _I will._ ”

It was all Luz could do to keep herself from squealing as a mix of joy and sweet relief washed over her. She slapped a hand over her mouth, feeling her smile reach so far up her cheeks that it physically ached.

“ _Don’t get your hopes up,_ ” Dad warned, voice stern once more, “ _I can’t promise that she’s going to say yes. There’s a good chance that she won’t, but… hey, it doesn’t hurt to try, right?_ ”

At this, Luz sobered somewhat, though her smile remained firmly in place this time. She nodded, “Right… I really hope she does, though. I really wanna see Death City. And the DWMA. Oh, and Maka!”

“ _She’s missed you, you know,_ ” there was a slight hint of mischief in his voice, “ _She won’t admit it, but I think Maka wants to see her big sister._ ”

Luz snorted, giggling, “Weren’t you the one telling me not to get my hopes up just now, Dad?”

“ _Right, right,_ ” he chuckled, “ _Sorry. My bad._ ”

“Apology accepted.”

“ _I’m glad. Now, I think you should get some sleep. It’s four in the morning over there, and I don’t wanna get in trouble with your mother for keeping you up so late._ ”

“Yeah,” she bobbed her head, “... hey, _Papi?_ ”

He didn’t even miss a beat, “ _Yes,_ Mi Cielita?”

“… thanks for picking up. And… for listening.”

“ _I’m your father, Luz. That’s my job._ ”

“Even so. Thank you.”

“ _… anytime._ Te amo, Corazoncita.”

“ _Te amo, Papi._ Night.”

“ _Goodnight._ ”

With that, the line went dead.

She pulled the phone down from her ear, a melancholy sigh escaping her as she stared up at the laughing moon high above, “Wish I could be as sure of what’s coming as you, Ms. Moon…”

Finally, she reached for her nightlight, switching it off, and curled up beneath the covers, slowly falling into slumber.

* * *

The black cat slowly slunk through the shadows, cheerily humming to herself as she adjusted her large, black hat over her purple hair. Her golden eyes gleamed as she reached the top of a dune, sweeping across the desert.

Death City. It really was a sight to behold, if only because of how strange it was; it looked more like a castle than any modern day city. There weren’t any skyscrapers to speak of, and what buildings poked over the towering cobblestone walls didn’t bring to mind any sort of bustling metropolis. With all the rickety roofs, crooked windows, and conjoined buildings, it gave an impression closer to that of an old town left by the wayside, growing ever more crooked with age – the perfect home for all sorts of classic horrors.

The highest building of all, though, was that of the Death Weapon Meister Academy, its jet black walls rendering it almost invisible against the night sky; the only reason it could be seen at all was because of the many giant candles that extended from it, casting light all across the town and acting as beacons that could be seen for miles, illuminating the three pronged mask of the Grim Reaper that had become so well known.

She smiled.

This city would be her new home, from now on.

“… you know, I still can’t believe that you’re actually willing to go in there.”

The voice was equal parts wry and cheerful despite its contralto, a voice perfectly suited to a classical Witch’s cackle; the cat turned, and came face to face with a pale woman in a dark red dress, her long grey hair lightly tousled by the cold desert gales. Her golden eyes flashed with mischief, her single golden fang enriching an already toothy grin as she turned to size the cat up, “I might not be a conventional Witch, but even I know better than to go traipsing through Death’s hometown.”

The cat giggled, bringing a hand to her mouth, causing her purple curls to flounce; her short black dress and long sleeves flapped gently in the wind, as if in agreement, “Well, I guess it’s a good thing I’m not a Witch. I’m just a cat. Death’s got no reason to have me hunted down.”

“Aren’t you the lucky one,” the Witch remarked dryly.

“I really am.”

“You’re free to believe that when you can actually win a round of Hexas Hold ‘Em, Blair.”

“I can so win Hexas Hold ‘Em!” she pouted, “You just cheat, Eda!”

A snorting laugh, “Me? Cheat? I would _never._ ”

“Right,” Blair sniffed.

A quiet moment passed, filled only by the wind.

“… so. What _were_ doing in my neck of the woods, anyways?” Blair crossed her arms, genuinely curious, “It’s not like you to leave the Boiling Isles yourself.”

“I sent Owlbert out to do the usual collection,” Eda gently stroked the wooden owl atop her staff, “He got caught up in a little trouble chasing a particular piece of junk, so I had to come fetch him.”

“I see,” the cat nodded, pursing her lips, “And here I was ready to lecture you about how that little stunt of yours cost me one of my Souls.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Eda’s smile didn’t fade as she met Blair’s gaze, “I figured you’d be able to handle a couple of brats that weak, even if they didn’t believe you were a cat. I’m surprised you played with them for so long, though. You usually lose interest a lot more quickly than that.”

“It was my first time seeing a real Demon Weapon!” Blair squealed with obvious delight, “That little scythey boy was so cute! And his Meister was really just fun to mess with! They were so fun, I couldn’t help myself!”

“And is that why you’ve decided you’re living _there,_ now?” the Witch pointed to the city, “In the Grim Reaper’s house, middle of nowhere, Nevada? Because that’s where your new favourite playmates live?”

“You got it!”

“Heh. And people call _me_ crazy,” Eda shook her head in mock dismay, then shrugged, “But hey, whatever floats your boat. I won’t snitch on ya to the Emperor’s Coven or anything. Just be careful not to snitch the Isles to anyone, alright?”

“Eda, I don’t even know where the closest portal to the Witch Realm even _is,_ ” Blair mewled, “And last time I checked, you’re the only one with a portal directly to and from the Isles themselves.”

“Then don’t sell me out,” Eda’s grin widened, “There are enough people who want to take me in without adding Death’s cronies to the list.”

“Don’t they already want you, though? I’ve heard that the Owl Lady is a pretty high profile target for the DWMA,” Blair noted, smugly.

“Correction, I don’t need _more_ of Death’s cronies added to the list,” Eda grumbled, shooting the cat a dirty look, “I might be able to run circles around most of the Weapons and Meisters that they churn out today, but avoiding fights in the first place is the best way to stay safe. And I’d rather not get a Death Scythe sent after me, even if I do like my chances in a fight with one.”

“Fair point.”

“… speaking of the Boiling Isles, though,” Eda sighed, spinning her staff. The owl perched on its top spread its wings, its eyes glowing gold, and when Eda let go, it hovered in the air, totally suspended by its own power. The red-clad Witch sat down, letting it carry her a few feet up into the air, “I really need to be heading back. It’s probably already past dawn there and I’d rather not screw up my sleep schedule any more than it already is.”

“Alright,” Blair smiled up at her, “Stay safe out there, okay?”

“Who do you think you’re talking to, you dumb cat?” Eda smirked.

“Someone who’s done me a huge favour!” Blair shot back.

Eda let out a harsh, snorting laugh, then took off into the sky, soon becoming nothing more than a dwindling silhouette against the grinning moon.

Blair watched for a long while, waiting until the dark speck that was the Witch had completely faded into the dark backdrop of the night, before turning back to Death City. She snapped her fingers, a blast of smoke surrounding her, and where a beautiful young woman once stood, was now just a black cat with a comically oversized hat.

“Time to head home,” she mused, conjuring a jack-o-lantern; it floated in midair, grinning face illuminated by orange candles, and when she hopped atop it, it began to float off towards the city, “I think I’m gonna like living with Maka and Soul…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be changes to both how Soul Eater and Owl House progress in this story. One of the big changes is going to be the ages of Maka's parents (specifically Spirit), and how magic works in the Boiling Isles to make the series compatible.
> 
> But don't worry; I think I have a strong handle on this.
> 
> Thank you for giving this story a read. Please be sure to leave your thoughts on this below; every comment helps hone my work into something better.
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed the first instalment of Owls and Souls, Witches and Resonance!


	2. Taking and Making Calls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2! I told you these would be posted quickly. Though after chapter 3 it might take a little time.
> 
> I do not own Soul Eater or Owl House.
> 
> But part of me kinda wishes I did.

The hiss and sizzle of bacon was a pleasant thing to wake up to.

It breached through the haze of sleep, gradually rousing Soul from his slumber. The smell alone was enough to get his mouth to water, tempting him, practically daring him to go and eat and skip his normal morning routine.

“Haven’t even brushed my teeth yet,” he grumbled, slowly stretching, working out the kinks in his arms. He smiled, “Geez, Maka… not a cool way to start the morning. At least come wake me up first…”

He pushed himself up – or tried to, at least. There was an unusual weight in the center of his chest, as if something had curled up atop his ribs and was now refusing to move, remaining stubbornly in place despite the efforts of his still sleep-addled body.

Annoyed, Soul finally opened his eyes, glaring down at the small object that refused to let him do his single morning sit-up.

He blinked. Once. Twice.

A small cat was curled in a ball on his sternum, breathing gently with a contented smile on its small face. Its fur was a deep purple, so deep it was practically black; its tail curled up in a spiral, so long that if stretched out, it could easily have reached two feet and still have several inches to spare. A strange collar and pendant hung around its neck, but what truly caught Soul’s attention was the hat.

The enormous, crooked Witch’s hat.

Suddenly, memories of that night came flooding back; the house shaped like a pumpkin; the drudgery of four long nights of effort; the sting of three consecutive defeats.

But most of all, Soul remembered the utter disgust he’d felt with himself for turning on Maka, even if it was to get the upper hand, and the taste of the glowing purple Soul as he’d chewed and swallowed, power welling through him in an overwhelming surge of strength… only for it to all disappear in an instant, leaving him feeling genuinely ill for the rest of the night even if he’d done his best not to show it.

Soul felt the colour drain from his already pale face as he slowly connected the dots.

This was the cat they’d mistaken for a Witch. This was Blair.

Blair was in his room.

_Blair had followed them home._

Before he could call for Maka, the cat stirred; she pushed herself up, first stretching up, and then out with a long squeak of a yawn. Her bright yellow eyes gradually drifted open as she licked her lips, and she met Soul’s gaze.

He was certain in that moment that he was dead.

He knew that there was no way he could win without Maka – and even with her, their chances would be dubious at best. They’d only won because he’d successfully tricked Blair… and Soul knew how vengeful cats could be.

He could only guess she was here to pay them back for her missing Soul.

For a long moment, neither spoke. The terrified Weapon merely stared at the bemused cat, waiting for the killing blow to come…

“… morning, Soul,” Blair yawned again, then slowly curled up and laid back down, eyes fluttering shut, “Jus’ lay there a few more minutes, ‘kay? You make a nice pillow…”

Soul swallowed, thoroughly confused. Was he still asleep? Was this some nightmare where Blair’s bizarre idea of revenge upon her killers took the form of just living in their apartment and making a nuisance of herself?

Slowly, he ran his tongue along his jagged teeth…

“… well, I’m not asleep…” he winced at the scraping sensation across his tongue, the mild pain enough to totally dispel any hope he might have had of abruptly waking up.

“‘course not, silly…” Blair mumbled, “Settle down... I wanna nap a little more…”

… he was officially at a loss. He had no idea what to say or do.

Cautiously, he brought his arms beneath himself, and slowly tried to push himself up…

“Nyoooooo,” the cat whined, digging in slightly with her claws.

Soul immediately stopped, laying back down; on the one hand, he was now more than a little thankful he had worn a shirt to bed. Those claws felt sharp.

On the other, he liked this shirt, and felt no desire to see it get all snagged up.

Eventually, Blair’s claws retracted, and Soul felt himself let out a sigh of relief.

“… okay,” he whispered, reaching up to his chest, “Let’s try this, then…”

He slid his hands under the relatively small cat, her dark fur soft as silk to the touch, and slowly tried to lift her off.

Once more, she responded with her claws, this time digging in harder to keep him from lifting her, “Nyooooooooooooooo…”

Soul quickly set her back down, cursing as the tiny little razor blades the cat called claws sat on the surface of his skin, over a dozen and a half little needles that would only need an errant twitch to break through. When they pulled back once more, he took a deep breath, gritting his teeth.

“Blair, if you don’t let me get up, I’m going to call Maka in here,” he threatened, hoping he wouldn’t have to follow through.

She opened one eye, still smiling that smug little smile, “Will you?”

“I will.”

“Will you, really?”

“Blair,” he urged through his teeth.

“Hmmmmmmmmmm,” she drew the sound out, slowly, letting her eye angle upwards in mock thought.

Then, a cloud of smoke abruptly erupted from her form, and Soul found himself winded as the weight on his chest went from roughly seven pounds to well over a hundred.

Blair chuckled as the smoke cleared, her humanoid form now clad in the same short black dress she had worn before, cutting off just above the thigh, the curled toes of her long black boots matching the curls of her hair; she sank her razor sharp, perfectly manicured nails, even in this form more like claws than anything else, into the fabric of the mattress. She grinned at the visible panic on the Weapon’s face, settling back down once more, “Promises, promises, Soul.”

“… God damn, you do not fight fair,” he grumbled, “Not cool.”

“Let’s just say I learned from the best, and leave it at that.”

Soul let out a sigh of defeat, slumping back down against his pillow and staring up at the ceiling.

It seemed there was only one way out of this.

He closed his eyes, and took a deep breath to steel himself…

“Maka,” he called, raising his voice, “Can you come in here for a minute? I need a hand dealing with our guest.”

At this, Blair raised her head, eyes blinking open in mild surprise. After a moment, footsteps began to draw closer to the door, the apartment’s only other occupant on the approach.

The door opened, and Maka stepped into the room, her hair already up in her usual pigtails, her brows furrowed as her eyes swept the room, “What guest-”

Her eyes landed on the bed.

“… Blair followed us home,” Soul stated, hoping that would explain everything.

“Oh, wow, you actually called her,” Blair’s eyes shot from Maka to Soul, smiling, though she pointedly did not move from her spot atop the Weapon, “Well played.”

“ _Please,_ get her off,” he begged.

Maka stood there for a long moment, silent, before turning around, and walking back out of the room.

“… _wow,_ that’s cold,” Blair whistled, giving Soul an empathetic look, “Didn’t think she’d just ditch you like that.”

“Whoever said anything about ditching him?” Maka shot back, and the sound of something heavy rolling across the hardwood joined her footsteps. When she entered once more, she pulled along with her a large, heavy…

Vacuum cleaner.

The cat’s eyes widened with sudden terror, her grip on the bed tightening, “Oh, _that’s not fair!_ ”

“Get off my partner, or I start vacuuming the bed,” the Meister threatened, “With you still on it.”

“You’re bluffing!” Blair whined.

Maka turned on the vacuum. Its loud howl filled the room, the light on the front turning on-

And Blair’s human form disappeared in a puff of smoke, the small black cat rushing past Maka and out into the rest of the apartment.

“… thanks,” Soul sighed, letting his head fall back onto the pillow.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Maka leaned down, turning off the vacuum, “We still gotta figure out what she wants, and find a way to get her to leave.”

“I know,” he grumbled, bringing a hand to his forehead with a groan, “… how’d you know the vacuum was gonna work?”

“I used to have a cat. It was always terrified of the vacuum cleaner,” she shrugged. Then, she smiled, “Anyways, breakfast is ready. You wanna come get some bacon and eggs?”

“Absolutely,” Soul grinned, finally pushing off the covers and following Maka into the kitchen, still clad in his pajamas.

* * *

Luz nibbled half-heartedly on her slice of toast, bouncing restlessly on the balls of her feet. She paced across the floor, hoping to let her body expel the restless energy that sat in her stomach like a small, bound animal; it didn’t do anything to alleviate her anxious anticipation, but it did at least give her a physical outlet. It felt good, the back and forth, the way her bare feet dug into the floorboards and propelled her forwards, leaving a slight, but pleasant sting on her soles, the kind of sting that comes from pivoting in place or from jumping really high with no socks on – it felt almost like a dance.

She’d managed to get in some sleep after talking to Papi. She hadn’t woken up until nearly ten in the morning, and she had still felt exhausted; as usual, Mom was gone by this time of day, and was likely already at the hospital.

In the meantime, she was stuck at home.

No friends to go see. No places to go.

Just… stuck. Waiting for an update she at once coveted and dreaded.

She took another bite of toast, resisting the urge to check her phone again. She’d already checked at least three times since getting up, once before showering, once after, and once while she’d made her toast; no messages from Dad. No word from Mom.

Luz knew better than to get her hopes up, but the anticipation was killing her; it was already a struggle not to try to think about what life at the DWMA would be like. Her hands _itched_ with the urge to grab her crayons and some paper. She wanted to draw; herself, her future room and partner, it didn’t matter.

“Would I be a Meister?” she wondered aloud, “What kind of Weapon partner would I have? I’d love to have a scythe, kinda like Dad…”

She smiled, raising both hands as if she were wielding the large, heavy black blade of the Death Scythe… then frowned, “… but then maybe I’d just be copying Maka… I don’t wanna come off as just aping off my little sister. Maybe a sword? An axe?”

She brought a hand to her chin, her brow creasing further as she started tapping her foot. Then her eyes lit up, “Or a staff! I’d _love_ to have a staff for a partner!”

The image of herself conjuring the strength of her Soul Wavelength through a staff of white, tipped with a massive sapphire shot through her mind, striking down an evildoer with a simple twirl of her partner. She couldn’t suppress the rising squeal of excitement that was burgeoning in her stomach, making her bounce up and down, “That would be _so cool!_ ”

Then she stopped, eyes widening in realization.

“But wait… what if _I’m_ a Weapon?”

She looked down at her free hand, thoughtful, clenching her fingers into a fist, then opening them again, “If _I’m_ a Weapon, that’ll make finding a good Meister really important. But before that, I gotta figure out what kind of Weapon I am!”

Luz started pacing again, quickly finishing her toast, “Unlike Soul Wavelengths, Weapon traits are hereditary – I remember that much from what Dad told me. So if I _am_ a Weapon, then that means I’d probably, almost definitely be a scythe!”

She held her arms out directly in front of her, taking care to move away from the table, making the best concentration face she could manage. She clenched her jaw, tightened every muscle in her body, grunting in exertion as she tried to force her body to transform. She could hear her blood vessels going into overtime, feel her lungs begging for air as she struggled…

Finally, a wave of dizziness forced her to give up. She stumbled back, sucking in as deep a breath as she could as she leaned back against the table, her vision swimming.

“ _Dios mio_ ,” she groaned, sitting herself down in the chair before she could fall over, rubbing at her head as she waited for the room to stop spinning, “Okay… either I’m not a Weapon, or I have no idea what I’m doing. Or both.”

Luz shook her head, her vision and headache gradually returning to normal. She frowned, crossing her arms, “This… might be harder than I thought. I don’t know how this Weapon or Soul Wavelength stuff works… I need a crash course, and fast.”

She pulled out her phone, going through her contact list, short as it was.

The most obvious person to call would be Papi. He would happily explain all this to her, but she suspected it wouldn’t be something he could compress into a five minute phone call and still make it easy to understand. There were schools with six years or more dedicated to the subjects – that was part of why DWMA existed. To help kids better understand and use their powers, and guide them towards utilizing those powers for the right reasons.

Besides, it was still in the morning; he was probably still busy, and he promised that he’d call Mami.

“Best leave him to it for now,” Luz continued through the list.

The next name she stopped at made her heart skip a beat, then sink.

Lil’ Sis Maka.

Her lips curled downwards as her eyebrows curled up, a pang of hurt ringing through her like a small, broken bell. Maka had never been the most prudent person when it came to responding to Luz’s texts and emails – it always took a day or two in the case of emails. Luz had always assumed that was because Maka liked to be thoughtful in her responses, and didn’t just jump into things the way she did.

But just over a month ago, the responses stopped entirely. She hadn’t heard so much as a word from Maka; just an abrupt silence that left Luz wondering if she had once again done something wrong, something to alienate her sister.

She bit her lip, bouncing one knee once more as the anxiousness returned. Should she do it? Should she try one more time to talk to Maka?

“… eh, what’s the worst that could happen?” she asked, smiling, as she tapped on the name.

* * *

Blair pouted as she leaned forwards on the table, once again in human form, watching Soul and Maka split the dishes between them. Soul kept glancing at her every few seconds with a wary eye, as if expecting her to turn hostile at any moment; Maka, on the other hand, was very pointedly ignoring her, refusing to so much as give the cat a second glance and keeping her attention squarely on soapy water.

“… you two are grumpy,” she grumbled, chin on her arms.

“You broke into our house – after trouncing us several times over the course of the past week – and now you’re refusing to leave,” Soul huffed, placing another plate back in the cupboard, “I don’t understand why you think we’d be happy to see you.”

The cat let out a whimper, sinking further into her arms.

“Why are you even here, anyways?” Maka finally asked, her words sharp and scathing as daggers, “We killed you and took one of your Souls. Are you just here to annoy us as payback?”

“No,” Blair’s voice was somewhat muffled from under her arms.

Maka’s grip on the knife in her hands tightened, clearly contemplating the pros and cons of taking yet another cat Soul as she continued her cross examination, “Are you here to take Soul? As I recall, our last fight was a pretty solid ‘no.’”

“No,” Blair sat up slightly, raising an eyebrow as she looked from Meister, to Weapon, to Meister again.

“… what’s with that look?” Soul inquired cautiously, eyes narrowing.

“… are you two an item?”

The plate made a solid THUNK in the bottom of the sink as it slipped from Maka’s hands; she cursed, digging around in the soapy water before yanking it back out.

“We are NOT,” Maka snapped, scrubbing furiously.

“Really?” Blair’s smile shifted, becoming knowing, almost smug, “You’re pretty touchy when it comes to him, you know that? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you two were actually a couple.”

“Blair,” Maka finally turned to glare at the cat, and Soul was sure that if looks could kill, Blair would be dead, nine Souls or no, “What do you _want?_ ”

Blair shifted in her seat, pushing back and folding her hands on the table with her best business smile, “I want to live with you two!”

You could hear a pin drop in the dead silence that passed; for a moment, Maka’s rage had entirely subsided, and Soul’s caution had disappeared, both replaced with shock. Just as quickly, however, both returned, eyeing the magical cat with wary stares, eyes narrowed and brows furrowed.

“… you… want to live with us,” Soul repeated.

“I just said that, yes,” Blair confirmed.

“… why?” Maka set her cloth down, crossing her arms, “Don’t you already have a place to live? It’s a lot nicer than this apartment.”

“Well… yeeeeaaaaaah,” Blair’s eyes wandered the room; the apartment was small, but cozy, white walls decorated with the occasional portrait or poster, with small, inexpensive furniture. A half wall separated the kitchen from the dining table, but let Blair see and hear Maka and Soul with no issue, “I will say that my old place was much roomier and had way nicer stuff.”

“So, again,” Soul repeated, “Why do you want to live _here?_ ”

“Oh, it’s got nothing to do with the place. I’m good with here or there in terms of actual location,” Blair bridged her fingers, resting her chin across her hands, “I just want to live with _you two._ Specifically.”

Again, the Weapon and Meister were left speechless. They looked to each other, silently questioning the cat’s sanity before looking back at her.

“… _why!?_ ” Maka demanded, her voice growing increasingly incredulous, eyes widening in something between disbelief and panic.

“Because I’m boooooooorrrrrreeeeed,” Blair dragged the word out as long as she could, trying to emphasize her situation, “It’s _boring_ living all by myself. I don’t have anybody to talk to and the only things I have to play with are what I can enchant with my magic, but that might as well be me playing by myself with dolls!”

“So find somebody else to play with!” Maka cried, “We’re students at the DWMA! We don’t have time to be playing with some stray cat!”

“And yet, you have time to loaf around this apartment feeling sorry for yourselves,” Blair teased.

“That’s _different!_ And moreover, YOUR fault!”

“How is it _my_ fault? _You’re_ the ones that thought I was a Witch.”

“You could have told us you weren’t!”

“Would you have believed me, Maka?”

“I-”

Maka stopped; she knew that on some level, Blair had a point there. She had no idea what a true Witch’s Soul looked like, and had just assumed Blair was the real deal…

“Alright, that’s enough,” Soul interjected, placing a placating hand on his partner’s shoulder. He then turned his gaze on the cat, lips pursed, “Blair, in case you haven’t noticed this place is kind of cramped as it is. We can’t afford anything bigger than this, and your place isn’t in Death City. Maka and I _need_ to be here in order to continue our classes.”

“Fair point, fair point,” Blair conceded, nodding, but still smiling.

“We only get about five hundred dollars between the two of us every month for groceries and rent. Our budget’s tight,” Maka added, finally smiling as she gained a concrete reason to not let the cat live with her, “We don’t exactly have the money for a third mouth to feed, even if we did have room.”

“I can get a job,” Blair stated without missing a beat.

Soul raised an eyebrow.

“You? Work?” Maka scoffed, crossing her arms, “Didn’t think you were the type.”

Blair’s smile split into a grin, “Oh, Maka… you think I had that pumpkin house you broke into for free?”

At this, Maka’s smile faltered, “… I thought you just… I dunno… magic?”

“Really? You think I just magicked the building into place? All the plumbing for the hot water for my baths? All the glass from the window Soul smashed up?” the cat teased, letting out an actual laugh this time, “I’m good at magic, Maka, but I’m not _that_ good.”

Maka’s smile continued to fail, showing more and more dread as the magical animal continued to make her points.

“Plus,” Blair added, disappearing in another poof of smoke; in her place sat the small black cat once more, raising a paw, “You’re forgetting that I’m a _cat._ I don’t actually eat that much compared to you two, so my contributions to the food bill would actually be a lot smaller than you’re implying, and I don’t take up that much space. You wouldn’t need to move to a bigger apartment to accommodate me since I basically sleep where I want to anyways.”

Once again, silence fell between the three; Maka’s smile had been completely replaced with an expression of utter dread. Soul seemed uncertain, lips still pursed, but he seemed to be in thought.

“… so what you’re saying,” Soul started, “is that you are capable of making enough money to actually own a decent sized house and pay all the bills for it. And, moreover, that your actual living expenses are significantly smaller than either of ours’.”

“Bing-go,” Blair singsonged, “Five points to the little scythey boy!”

“Please don’t call me that,” he shuddered, looking away.

“If it helps, I can probably get my property sold sooner rather than later. We’ll have a good bit of money to sit on for a while, if you really want me to contribute to the household,” Blair set her paw down, “So, what do you say? Not a bad offer, right?”

“… it seems too good to be true,” Maka stated, still not at all excited about the prospect of living with a magical cat – a magical cat that was stronger than her.

“Maka makes a good point,” Soul noted, “So far, this seems a lot like a honey trap.”

“A good instinct,” Blair nodded, her tone approving, “But I promise, there are no strings attached. All I want is to live with you two, and I’ll contribute everything I can to living here.”

The Weapon and Meister glanced at each other, both unsure.

“… you _do_ owe me,” Blair’s voice filled with sudden, mock sorrow, “Poor Blair is down from nine Souls to eight. What ever will she do now?”

“… we’ll talk about this later, okay?” Maka finally sighed, defeated, “Soul and I already have some important things to talk about, Blair. You make a good case, but we’ll discuss the living arrangements later.”

Blair beamed, knowing that her chances of winning just became that much greater, “Fine by me!”

The cat hopped off the table, padding off down the hall, “I’m gonna go take a bath. Let me know when you two are ready to start talking numbers.”

With that, she disappeared from view.

“… never thought I’d see a cat that likes baths,” Soul sighed.

“Me either.”

They each turned back to the sink, resuming the dishes.

“… so. That important stuff you said you wanted to discuss,” Soul started, “You talking about those Kishin Egg Souls Lord Death offered us?”

“Yeah,” Maka confirmed, draining the sink so she could run fresh hot water, “I wanted to know what your thoughts on it were.”

“Well… on the one hand, it sucks that we have to start over. Ninety nine Souls and a whole year, down the drain,” Soul huffed, placing another dish into the cupboard, “On the other… I dunno. It just… doesn’t feel right, you know?”

“Like we didn’t earn it,” Maka agreed, “Like we just piggy backed off of someone else. Someone who wasn’t even part of the Academy, from the sound of it.”

“Yeah,” Soul bobbed his head, “That’s it exactly.”

“… I’m glad.”

“Hm?”

Maka glanced at him, a small smile on her face, “… I was thinking the same thing, to be perfectly honest. I know it seems like a stupid move, but… I don’t wanna make a Death Scythe like that. I want to do it the right way.”

Soul paused, then let out a low chuckle, baring his teeth in a grin, “You and me both.”

“… I thought that conversation was going to take a lot longer,” Maka confessed, “I thought it would take at least an hour to settle on what we were gonna do.”

“Funny how a little honesty can wrap things up like that,” Soul put another cup away, “… is that the last of the dishes?”

“Yeah. All that’s left is-“

The sound of a phone ringing abruptly cut Maka off, making her jump as it buzzed in her shirt pocket. After a moment, she let out a sigh of relief – it wasn’t the ringtone she’d assigned to her Dad.

She fished her phone out, and glanced at the screen.

Then she stared at the screen, her heart sinking once more.

The name “Noceda” blared across the screen like a death sentence.

Luz was trying to get a hold of her again.

“… this important?” Soul asked.

“… I…”

Maka didn’t know how to answer. She couldn’t take her eyes off of her phone screen.

“… I’ll deal with the rest,” Soul decided, turning his attention back to the sink, “You do what you need to do.”

“… thanks, Soul.”

Maka turned, and sped back to her room, faster than she wanted to admit, closing the door behind her. The phone continued to ring in her hand as she walked over to her bed, and sat down, staring at the name.

When Maka was six, Papa – back when she was still willing to call him that – had given her Luz’s contact information, her email and phone number, and vice versa, so that they could talk. They were penpals, making up for the fact that they weren’t able to grow up together by telling each other anything and everything.

Or at least, that had been the idea.

Maka had always found her half sister difficult to talk to; even on the phone, Luz was more than capable of overwhelming Maka with how quickly she spoke, and her complete lack of volume control or filter for anything and everything that crossed her mind. So many things went through Luz’s head in a given moment that it was hard for Maka to keep up with her – she could be jumping from one thought to the next with barely any sense of connecting thread one moment, then hyper-focused on one particular topic the next, and even on the phone her presence was a dominating one, leaving Maka feeling like a candle in the wind.

It wasn’t so much that Maka disliked talking with Luz so much as she simply found it exhausting.

Thankfully, Luz had understood when Maka explained it to her, even apologizing for overwhelming her like that; their correspondence went from phone calls to emails and the occasional text. Luz’s emails had even become something for Maka to look forwards to, as it was so much easier to follow her thought patterns when they were written out than when Luz was babbling nonstop in mixed English and Spanish; she’d even made Maka laugh so hard she bruised a rib once.

But there was one thing Maka had never been able to get out of her head – a nagging thought that had only grown stronger as she got older, causing her to put off opening Luz’s emails and checking her text thread for longer and longer periods of time.

And then Mama filed for a divorce with her father.

That was over a month ago.

Maka had not opened a single one of Luz’s emails since. Nor had she checked the text thread.

She’d even changed the name marking her half sister’s contact from “Luz” to “Noceda.”

And now, here she was. Sitting on her bed, debating whether to wait for Luz to give up, or to decline the call.

Guilt stabbed through Maka’s stomach like an iron stake.

She _knew_ it wasn’t fair. She _knew_ she should just answer.

But… how was she just supposed to let go?... Mama hadn’t let go…

Eventually, the ringing stopped. The call went to voice mail.

Maka sighed, and flopped back, laying down on the bed.

… and the phone began to ring again.

She picked it up.

She stared at the screen.

Noceda.

“… she’s not going to give up, is she?”

Maka knew the answer to that question already.

If there was one thing she shared with her older sister, it was that neither of them knew when to quit.

Slowly, she closed her eyes, placed a finger on the bottom of the screen…

… and held it to her ear.

* * *

“ _Hello?_ ”

Luz’s eyes immediately snapped open at the voice. She leaped out of her chair, unable to suppress her joy, “Maka!”

“ _… hey, Luz,_ ” Maka’s tired voice rang in her ear.

“It’s been so long since I last heard from you!” she started to pace, a broad smile crossing her face, “I was starting to think you weren’t gonna pick up at all! _¿Cómo estas? ¿Estas bien?_ ”

“ _… Luz_ ,” Maka sighed, “ _You’ve gone into Spanish mode again._ ”

“… oh,” she let out a sheepish chuckle, rubbing the back of her head, “Sorry…”

“ _It’s okay. No big deal._ ”

“… seriously, though, are you okay?” Luz frowned, finally noticing how off Maka sounded, “You sound exhausted. Have you really had that rough of a morning?”

“ _… it’s been… kind of a rough week,_ ” Maka admitted.

“You wanna talk about it?” Luz leaned against the wall, staring up at the clock, “I can listen. I’m not going anywhere.”

“ _Not really, honestly. I mostly want to know why you’re calling._ ”

“Weeeeeeeeellllll-”

“ _Please don’t stretch your words out like that,_ ” Maka groaned, “ _You sound like that dumb stray cat…_ ”

Luz gasped, “You found a talking cat!?”

“ _A magic talking cat, yes,_ ” Maka confirmed.

“Send me pictures!?”

“ _Maybe once she’s out of the bath._ ”

“A talking magical cat that _likes baths!?_ ” Luz squealed, hopping from one foot to the other, “I am _so jealous_ right now, Maka!”

“ _Trust me, it’s not nearly as fun as it sounds._ ”

“ _I’ll_ be the judge of that, thank you,” Luz smirked.

“ _You can judge after she screws up your Witch hunt._ ”

“Wait, is that what happened?” Luz stopped midstep, the gears in her head turning, “Last I heard from you, you said you made it up to around eighty Souls. Did you make it up to ninety nine?”

“ _… yeah… unfortunately, though, we wound up botching the Witch’s Soul. We mistook a magical cat for a Witch and now we have to start over._ ”

Luz winced, “Ouch… yowza, that’s rough. Sorry, Maka…”

“ _‘s not your fault. Besides, it’s not like the last year was a total waste; Soul and I are both stronger for it, and this’ll count towards our grades._ ”

“Well, that’s good at least,” Luz smiled, leaning back once more, “I hope I get to meet you and Soul in person soon.”

This time, Maka didn’t answer, and silence fell between them for a long moment.

“ _… so. How come you’re calling, Luz? Is something wrong?_ ”

“Well, I missed you. You haven’t been emailing me back lately,” Luz put an arm across her stomach, anxiety blossoming inside and making her smile slip, “I was worried…”

“ _... I’m sorry,”_ Maka began, “ _It’s just… there’s been a lot going on, lately, with school, and Mama getting divorced from Dad…_ ”

“… oh,” Luz felt her heart plummet, “I… I’m sorry… I-”

“ _Don’t,_ ” Maka interrupted, “ _It’s…_ ”

Another pause, Maka clearly struggling with her words, unsure of what to say…

“ _… it’s not a big deal. Dad had this coming for a long time._ ”

Luz couldn’t stop herself from flinching. She’d known Maka was angry at Papi, that was one thing… but it was another thing entirely to hear the venom in her little sister’s words.

“… so,” she started, hoping to steer the conversation to a happier topic, “I, uh… I was actually gonna ask you something, Maka.”

“ _Hm?_ ”

“… can you teach me how to use my Soul Wavelength?”

She could practically see Maka’s confused blink; Luz heard the ruffle of fabric as she moved, pushing herself up.

“ _... Soul Wavelength?... I mean, I could, but… why, Luz?_ ”

“… okay, Dad told me not to get my hopes up, but basically I got in a lot of trouble at my school here for using snakes and fireworks in my book report, and getting sent to the principal’s office four times this year, and I’m being sent to CampRealityCheckforthesummer,unlessPapicanconvinceMamitoletmecometoDWMA,andifI’mgonnadotha’Ireallyneedt’knowhowt’usemySoulWavelength,” Luz felt her words starting to bleed together from how fast she was speaking, desperation seeping into her tone.

“ _… did you just say you used snakes and fireworks in your book report?_ ”

“Makaaaaaaa!” Luz whined, “I really need help here! I don’t wanna go to that summer camp!”

“ _Okay, okay, Luz,_ ” Maka’s tone shifted, becoming more even, authoritative, “ _Settle down for a minute, alright?_ ”

“… okay,” Luz shifted from foot to foot, trying to ease her anxiety.

“ _… listen to me carefully. A Soul Wavelength isn’t something that you learn how to use in one day. It takes a long time and a lot of practice just to be able to sense it. Even if we were to start right now, you probably wouldn’t be ready for summer classes at the Academy._ ”

“Yeah, but I’d be that much further ahead than I am _now,_ ” Luz insisted.

“ _You’re not even sure if you’ll be allowed yet. What if we get started, and your Mama decides you can’t come?_ ”

Luz bit her lip, her head dropping, “… I…”

“ _… I’m not trying to hurt your feelings, Luz. I’m just asking you to think about this,_ ” Maka assured, “ _You know as well as I do how much it sucks when you get your hopes up, only for things to not go the way you want them to._ ”

“… yeah. I know… that doesn’t make it any easier, though…”

“ _I get it. Trust me. I_ get it. _But that’s why I’m saying this; it’s better to know what’s going to happen than it is to act based on an unlikely hope._ ”

Luz closed her eyes with a breath, letting her head roll back against the wall. It wasn’t as if she didn’t understand what Maka was trying to say. Life was easier when you tempered your expectations.

“If you’re always expecting disappointment, you’ll never be disappointed,” she muttered, “Kind of a sucky way to live if you ask me…”

“ _I hear that,_ ” Maka sighed.

“… can you still teach me?” Luz asked, “Just… the very basics. The very very very basics. Even if I get sent to summer camp, it’ll at least give me something to practice.”

Maka paused, then inhaled, before releasing the breath slowly through the mouth; Luz could practically see her closed eyes and focused expression, the very picture of a determined teacher.

“ _… alright. I can teach you a little bit about your Soul Wavelength._ ”

“YAY!” Luz whooped, jumping from her spot on the wall with her fists raised, “Thank you, Makaaaa!”

“ _Not right now!_ ” Maka interrupted, voice stern, “ _Right now, I have stuff I need to do. But I’ll see what I can do about calling you on the weekends – if, and only if, you’re willing to listen to me._ ”

“I can listen,” Luz agreed heartily, “I can listen soooooo good, you’ll never meet a better listener!”

“ _I’m sure,_ ” Maka remarked dryly, “ _And you have to understand, you won’t get it immediately. If you do, I will be very, very surprised._ ”

“And more than a little jealous?” Luz teased, grinning.

“ _Ha ha. We’ll see how long that lasts._ ”

“Hey, I might be able to do it! We won’t know until we try!”

“ _Heh… yeah. I guess that’s true._ ”

There was muffled shouting from the other end of the line, and Luz heard Maka shout something back; after a moment, Maka returned.

“ _Sorry. Looks like Soul needs me for something. Gotta go for now._ ”

“Alright!” Luz gave a salute, despite knowing Maka couldn’t see her, “When should I expect the first lesson?”

“ _Sunday, about six in the evening. That’s usually when I’m done my homework unless there’s a big project involved._ ”

“Okay!” Luz nodded, “Talk to you then!”

“ _Bye, Luz._ ”

“Love you, Maka!”

The line went silent, and Luz looked to the clock. It was almost noon.

“… and now, we wait.”

* * *

Camilia Noceda didn’t so much sit down in the chair as much as she did sink into it, grateful to finally be off her feet for a moment. The room was, mercifully, silent, the beds empty, the monitors dark, the machines not making so much as a single blip.

Technically, she wasn't supposed to use rooms like this for her break, but she’d needed to get away from all the noise; this morning had been, to say the very least, rough. Today had already seen the aftermath of a particularly severe pile up.

There hadn’t been any fatalities – at least, not yet, as far as she knew. Of the six that had been rushed to the hospital, only two of them had been in critical condition, and had since been stabilized. It seemed as if everyone was going to pull through, but Camilia knew better than to make such assumptions so soon after even a relatively minor crash.

She knew what this kind of work more often than not entailed, but even so, riding in that ambulance, uncertain as to what she would see when the vehicle stopped… lifting limp, bleeding bodies onto stretchers and pulling them in, doing whatever was needed to keep them stable… holding their hands as the ambulance pulled away…

Even after that, when the treatments began, was a constant flood of nerve-wracking anxiety. There had been _children_ in that collision… and that always made it so much worse.

She couldn’t even begin to imagine if it were Luz coming in on one of those stretchers.

She took off her glasses, rubbing her eyes; she was on her lunch break, now, but at any moment she could be called back in to assist if something went wrong.

She’d become a doctor because she’d wanted to help others… but sometimes, the stress that entailed became almost too much to bear.

“… I should eat while I have the chance,” she murmured, reaching for her bag.

A loud noise blared out, and Camilia’s heart leapt into her throat; she staggered up, eyes wide and sweeping the room, expecting to see doctors and nurses rushing in with a new patient-

… only to realize it wasn’t an alarm.

It was a ring tone.

A familiar ring tone.

She felt her heart sink, and she dug into her pocket, pulling out her phone; she stared at the name written across the screen, at the familiar red hair and the kind teal eyes with a sorrowful nostalgia.

Spirit Albarn.

She briefly considered not answering – she’d requested a long time ago that he not contact her outside of specific occasions, and even then, the only topic of discussion would be their daughter.

But Spirit hadn’t broken his promise yet; outside of some very important conversations, he never called her about anything other than Luz.

After a long moment of deliberation, Camilia finally answered.

“Hello?”

“ _Hey, Camilia. Are you free at the moment?_ ” the Death Scythe’s familiar voice was cheerful… but she recognized the strained tone.

She let out a sigh, sitting down again, “I am on my lunch break. Is there something wrong?”

“ _Well, that depends largely on how you define ‘wrong,’_ ” he started, “ _I don’t think anything is wrong, but I am a little concerned._ ”

“Is this about Luz?” she asked, opting to cut out the banter entirely.

“ _… it is._ ”

The doctor took a breath through her nose. Of course Luz had called Spirit; he always seemed to be the one Luz went to, always the one she called when she felt she wasn’t being heard.

“I was going to call you to give you an update later today,” Camilia started, “But going off your tone, I take it you already know.”

“ _She brought live snakes and fireworks to school. Kids and the principal got bitten, right?_ ”

“No one was seriously injured, but yes. That is the long and short of it,” she confirmed.

“ _And she’s being sent to… Camp Reality Check for the summer?_ ” she could hear the disapproval in his tone, despite the effort he took to keep his voice even.

“… yes,” Camilia’s answer was quiet, but firm, “She needs to be able to separate reality from fantasy, Spirit. She can’t keep acting out like this.”

“ _… okay. I’ll admit, this time, she went over the line. But don’t you think this is a bit of an overreaction, Camilia?_ ” he queried.

“This is the fourth time she’s been sent to the principal’s office this year.”

“ _And the other three times, she didn’t do anything wrong,_ ” Spirit argued, “ _The Sausage Incident was, at worst, five minutes of clean-up. The anatomy assignment was done as requested. And the time with the cheerleading squad, she didn’t even do anything. Each time she was sent in because her teachers and peers declared her a maverick. This is the first time the trip to the principal’s office was actually deserved, and I doubt Luz is going to do something like this again._ ”

“It’s not my decision, Spirit,” despite her best efforts, Camilia felt her frustration bleed into her tone “The school board has mandated that she has to go if she is to continue going to this school. Otherwise, she’ll be expelled, and you know how hard it is to find a school that will take in a child that’s been kicked out for bad behaviour, that’s _actually safe_.”

“ _… well, there is_ one _school off the top of my head,_ ” Spirit’s tone was light, cheerful even.

“No.”

The word shot out of her mouth before Camilia had even fully processed the implications of the Death Scythe’s words, decisive and final.

“ _Camilia-_ ”

“Spirit. We have _talked_ about this,” her voice was calm controlled, and cold, “I am not sending Luz to Death Weapon Meister Academy.”

On the other end of the line, she heard the redheaded man take a long breath; she could practically see him rubbing his brow with his fingers, eyes closed and lips drawn into a thin line.

“ _… she called me at four in the morning, Camilia._ ”

At this, she stopped, blinking, “… I’m sorry?”

“ _Luz is scared out of her mind. She feels like she’s going to be forced to change who she is on a fundamental level to please the people around her. People who don’t appreciate her creativity or enthusiasm,_ ” Spirit’s voice was somewhere between placating and pleading, a tone Camilia had found herself using on more than one occasion, “ _She called me last night because she couldn’t sleep, she was so worried about this summer camp you’re sending her to. I can count the amount of times I’ve heard her_ that _despondent on one hand and still have fingers left over._

“ _It breaks my heart, listening to her like that and not being able to do anything about it, Camilia. Especially when she…_ ”

He trailed off.

“… when she…?” Camilia asked, afraid of the answer.

“… _Luz_ asked _me_ _if I could sign her up for classes at DWMA. She wants to be here. She thinks she can fit in, and… honestly, I think she’d be a perfect fit,_ ” a hopeful smile came back into the Death Scythe’s words, “ _There’s plenty of kids as weird or weirder than she is, and the students and teachers alike would love her enthusiasm._ ”

Camilia closed her eyes, offering no answer.

“ _… if the issue is money, I’ll pay for it. I’ll pay for all of it,_ ” Spirit assured, “ _God knows I’ve got more money than I know what to do with these days, being a Death Scythe. I’ll pay for both of you to come to Death City; Hell, I’ll even ask Lord Death to take a look at your resumé. The school needs a good doctor, and you’d fit the bill perfectly._ ”

Still, she said nothing. His words rattled around in her skull, tossed about like the sea in a storm, and she struggled to find its eye of calm so she could sort them all out…

“ _… what do you say, Camilia?_ ” he urged, “ _Would you come back to Death City? For Luz’s sake?_ ”

She inhaled, long and deep. When Camilia finally opened her eyes, she reached into her bag, and pulled out her wallet, flipping it open, staring at the picture of her daughter framed in the leather.

“Oh, _Mija…_ ” she whispered, running her thumb across the young girl’s hair, the brilliant smile one she wished she saw more often.

She didn’t know what was the best option.

But she did know one thing.

“… Spirit,” she spoke slowly, deliberately, choosing her words with care, “I am not trying to disparage what you are trying to do. I know you care about Luz every bit as much as I do, and that you’re trying to do your best to be a good father to her. That’s more than I can say for any other man, any other _person_ I have ever met.

“But we both know that the issue isn’t, and never has been money. Especially not with you supporting us the way you have been since becoming a Death Scythe.”

“ _… I know,_ ” he sighed.

“I left Death City behind for a _reason_. Even putting Luz aside for a moment, I have put too many Weapons and Meisters back together,” she felt her voice quiver with emotion as memories flooded back – memories of men and women coming home grievously injured, of kids coming in on stretchers from Witch hunts gone awry, “I have had to tell too many people that they were no longer capable of fighting. I have had to mark too many Weapons and Meisters as Killed or Missing In Action. And I have seen too many children with shadows in their eyes, not realizing for an instant that they have been traumatized by what the DWMA has had them doing from as young as eleven years old.”

Silence reigned between them for a long moment. It felt less as though they were entire states apart and more like they were in the same room, staring each other down over what they believed was best for their child.

“… I _will not_ have it. Not for Luz,” she declared, her words bearing a finality as powerful as any Witch’s spell, “I do not dispute the importance of Death’s work. But I do dispute using children as soldiers to hunt Kishin Egg Souls, and _especially_ Witches.”

“ _… so. Camp Reality Check it is, then?_ ”

“I don’t want to send Luz there, Spirit. Believe me, I don’t,” she felt herself wilt, but kept her voice firm, “It puts me in just as much pain to see her so miserable… but if that’s what’s going to keep her safe, then yes. I genuinely think that’s what’s best for her, at the moment.”

“ _… what’s best, huh?_ ” Now Spirit sounded sullen.

“It won’t be so bad,” she assured, “It’ll only be for six weeks. The worst that will happen is six weeks of boredom. She may even make some actual friends there.”

“ _… yeah._ ”

A pause.

“ _… so. Are you going to tell Luz? Or do you want me to call her?_ ”

“Let me,” she insisted, “It’s my decision where she goes. It might be harder for her to hear it from me than from you… but, it’s not fair to expect you to handle it every time she’s feeling lost or unheard.”

“ _… okay._ ”

“Spirit?”

“ _Yes?_ ”

“… thank you for lending Luz an ear. And for trying to make her feel better, and find a place for her to fit in,” her smile was melancholy, “You really are a good father to her.”

“ _… thanks, Camilia. Is it alright if I make time to visit before she has to leave for Camp?_ ”

“Of course,” she nodded, “As long as you are good to her, I will never bar you from seeing your daughter.”

“ _Alright. I’ll leave you to it, then._ ”

“Goodbye, Spirit.”

With that, she hung up, and stood, slinging her bag back over her shoulder, smile fading.

Her break wasn’t over, but she had long since lost her appetite.

She stepped back out of the room, and proceeded to return to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if I got any of the Spanish incorrect here. I never actually learned it, so I'm trying to go both off of translators and off of notes I found online as I go... if you find anything that's incorrect, please, please do not hesitate to point it out. I will be sure to correct it accordingly!
> 
> Thanks for giving this a read, and please be sure to leave your thoughts and comments! I hope you enjoyed the second chapter of Owls and Souls, Witches and Resonance!


	3. Discussions and Decisions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Third chapter. This one is gonna be the last I'm posting today as chapter 4 is not yet finished.
> 
> I do not own Soul Eater or Owl House.
> 
> If I did, we'd have a Brotherhood adaption of the former.

“ _A Sound Soul dwells within a Sound Mind, and a Sound Body._ ”

Maka’s tone was that of an instructor as Luz did everything she could to focus. Her eyes were closed as she sat on the bed, hands in her lap, her phone set to speakerphone; her lips were pulled into a thin line and her brow furrowed in concentration as she struggled to get a feel for Maka’s lesson.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Long and slow, each motion deep and deliberate.

“ _Just keep repeating the mantra in your mind. In my experience, finding your Soul Wavelength for the first time entails shutting just about everything around you out,_ ” Maka stated, her voice almost clinically professional, “ _Clear your mind of all distraction. Clear your body of all impulse. Pay close attention to your innermost depths, and eventually, you should find a sort of rhythm. A pulse you’ve never heard, but have always known._ ”

“That doesn’t make any sense, Maka,” Luz grumbled, opening one eye.

“ _That’s because you’re thinking about it too much,_ ” a hint of mild amusement worked its way into Maka’s words.

“How am I supposed to not think? You’re giving me like five sets of instructions at once that all say to do the opposite thing of the last one,” Luz pushed herself up on her arms, shifting to face the phone where it sat on her nightstand, “First you tell me to just repeat the mantra, then you tell me to clear my mind? How do I do those things at the same time?”

“ _You’re just going about this wrong, Luz,_ ” Maka noted, “ _The mantra, paired with the breath, is what you’re supposed to focus on. It’s a tool to help you keep your mind clear._ ”

“So, I’m _not_ supposed to pay attention to my innermost depths?” Luz asked, growing more hopelessly confused by the second.

“ _Well, at least you’re proving that you’re listening._ ”

Luz groaned, flopping onto her back and throwing out her arms and legs, “And to top it off, my arms and legs are sore… I can’t sit like that for more than a minute or I start bouncing _something_ in place. I just _can’t sit still_...”

“ _You’d get along well with Black Star, then. He can’t sit still either._ ”

“Then how did _he_ find his Soul Wavelength?”

“ _I dunno. He’s never really talked about it, but I do know he can’t actually sense the Souls around him to save his life. He’s good at using his Soul Wavelength directly, but beyond that…_ ”

“Maybe that’s my problem?” Luz wondered, “I’m just bad at sensing stuff?”

“ _No. Black Star is at the very least aware of his own Soul Wavelength. If he weren’t, he wouldn’t be able to use it at all._ ”

A whimper escaped the Latina’s throat, her eyes fluttering shut. Frustration and discouragement flared in her stomach, the lack of progress and success in her efforts almost physically painful.

“ _... Luz,_ ” Maka began, “ _I’m not surprised you’re having this much trouble. This isn’t exactly the easiest thing in the world to do._ ”

“Yeah, but I’m usually good at picking up on this stuff,” Luz huffed, clenching her fists, “I’m not the best at course work, I’ll admit that much, but… I feel like I should’ve at least learned _something_ by now. I feel like I’m just spinning my wheels.”

“ _I felt the same way when Mama first started teaching me how to use my Soul Wavelength,_ ” Maka recalled, “ _I struggled for a long time to find anything – it took me close to four months to find even a hint of my Soul._ ”

“Four _months!?_ ” Luz sat up, staring at her phone in shock.

“ _Four months,_ ” she confirmed.

“But you’re so good at everything you try, Maka! How did it take you four months just to get started!?”

“ _Well, part of it was that I was eight…_ ”

“… okay, yeah,” Luz flopped back down, deflated, “Yeah, that’s… that’s fair.”

“ _… and the other part is that it’s just… not easy to do. It’s hard to explain, but there is a reason cultivating Soul Wavelengths isn’t something that’s taught outside of the Academy. It’s extraordinarily difficult, and requires a lot of discipline just to get in touch with it for the first time._ ”

“Should’ve figured,” Luz murmured, once again staring listlessly at the ceiling, “So much for getting this on the first try…”

“ _I_ did _warn you,_ ” Maka said.

“ _Please_ don’t say ‘I told you so.’”

“ _It’s tempting, I’ll admit. But I won’t. I’m not that mean._ ”

A moment of silence passed between them both.

“ _At the very least, you’re showing the determination that you need,_ ” Maka noted again, “ _You said you’ve been doing this on your own, too?_ ”

“Yeah,” Luz nodded.

“ _Then at some point, you should be able to find it. The important thing is that you keep trying; that’s the most important aspect of mastering your Soul._ ”

Another nod, Luz pushing herself back into a sitting position, crossing her legs; she smiled, slightly, “… thanks, Maka. That does actually make me feel a little better.”

“ _I needed to hear the same thing when I started. It’s only been a week since you started; just give it time. You’ll get there._ ”

Luz hummed, folding her hands in her lap as she rocked back and forth. She thought for a moment, debating whether or not to ask, before throwing caution to the wind.

“… hey, Maka?”

“ _Yeah?_ ”

“… Dad’s coming to visit soon. Before I get sent to Camp.”

She paused, waiting for Maka’s response; she was greeted only with another silence, and an awkwardness that planted itself deep in her stomach.

“… I… I was just wondering,” Luz began, “… were you gonna come?”

She paused again, and again, Maka offered no answer.

“I won’t bother you too much,” she spoke quickly, “I-I can be quiet and let you read… we can read together! I love to read! You love to read! We both love to read!”

Still, nothing; Luz could hear her voice growing more desperate as she continued, “I… I could even show you my favourite book! Remember? The Good Witch Azura? The fifth book finally came out this year! _¡_ _Papi_ _me lo compró Navidad!_

“ _¿_ _Que te parace?_ _¿_ _Sólo tú y yo por una tarde?_ _¿_ _Leyendo nuestros libros favoritos el uno al otro-?_ ”

“ _Luz?_ ”

Maka’s voice brought Luz to a grinding halt; there was an edge in her sister’s voice now, an edge Luz couldn't quite place, “ _… you’ve gone full Spanish again. I can’t understand a word you’re saying._ ”

Luz swallowed, finally realizing she’d bee babbling. She lowered her head, apologetic, trying not to let Maka’s words discourage her, “I… I’m sorry… I just… Dad’s coming, and I thought… you might come too...”

 _‘… Dad said you missed me,’_ she thought, but didn’t speak it aloud.

“ _… I’m sorry, Luz,_ ” Maka finally sighed, “ _But… well, with things as they are, Soul and I have a lot of catching up to do. It took us a long time to get all ninety nine of those Souls, and now, we have to start over; combined with summer classes at the Academy, and… I just… don’t have the time._ ”

“… that makes sense,” despite her best efforts to keep her voice understanding, Luz felt herself crumble inside, another wave of sadness and loneliness overtaking her, “Sorry, I… I shouldn’t have asked… I just… wanted to see you, is all...”

“ _Don’t apologize. Things just… didn’t turn out. That’s nobody’s fault._ ”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Luz curled up, wrapping her arms around her knees, her eyes unfocused as she stared into places she had never been, futures that wouldn’t be. Dinners with Maka and Soul, reading with Papi in the Academy library or even in his living room… adventures with a partner whose name and face she wanted so badly to learn…

All quashed.

Snuffed out like embers.

“ _... oh, no,_ ” Maka let out a muffled curse, “ _Sorry, Luz, I gotta go. It’s my night to cook dinner and I’m already behind._ ”

“It’s okay,” Luz managed dully, raising a hand to give a half-hearted wave, “Bye Maka. _Te am-_ … Love you.”

“ _… bye._ ”

The phone clicked, then went silent as Maka hung up.

Luz tilted, then fell sideways onto the bed, still curled into the foetal position. She reached, groping for her phone, and stared sullenly at the date on the screen.

It was already more than a week into June.

The pile of homework that sat on her desk was no smaller than it had been that morning; she’d been too preoccupied with trying to find her Wavelength to spare it a second thought.

Slowly, she stood, staring at the pile of worksheets and reviews. Mami would be expecting these to be ready to take in for tomorrow morning on her way to work…

On the one hand, Luz couldn’t wait for the school year to be over.

On the other, she knew what waited once her finals were all done.

She sat down heavily in her chair, taking out the first worksheet, and putting in her earbuds, hoping the noise would drown out the loneliness.

“… at least _Papi_ is coming soon…”

* * *

Maka set the phone down with a huff, folding her hands in her lap. She felt genuinely nauseous, her stomach seeming to squirm, and she knew it wasn’t because of anything she’d eaten.

She’d already known that Dad was going to visit Luz; he’d called Maka a few days earlier to let her know, even offered to let her come along, see her sister again.

Of course, she’d declined; in that moment, all she could feel was relief, and she’d actually smiled at the thought of being free from his doting and nagging for a few days. It would give her some peace of mind as she and Soul worked together to catch back up with their classmates.

Moments after, however, the guilt began to slowly seep in, and initially, she hadn’t been sure why. She had nothing but resentment for Dad, these days, going behind Mama’s back with all those women.

If she could do it without getting arrested for arson, she’d burn Chupacabra’s to the ground. Not with anyone inside it – she wasn’t _that_ angry – but she’d shed no tears if the bar were to suddenly be wiped off the face of the earth by the lightning strikes of an angry God.

So, why…?

… then Luz had asked in the middle of their lesson if she was coming.

Her previous relief was washed away in a shock that ran from her core through her entire body, her eyes widening and mouth going slack; she’d nearly dropped her phone, and was grateful that she had been sitting down.

She had refused to visit Luz out of petty spite for Dad – and hadn’t she even given it a second thought until her half-sister, so eager to see her, so desperate for someone to relate to other than her own Mama, asked if she was coming.

What once was a creeping sense of anxious guilt had suddenly slammed into Maka like Black Star had taken a baseball bat to her stomach. And continued to swell as Luz excitedly, and desperately, tried to make the offer more enticing.

She had reacted on instinct when Luz slipped into Spanish, speaking harsher than she’d intended… and with how contrite her half-sister sounded afterwards, Maka knew she may as well have just kicked a puppy.

Of course, Maka gave Luz her excuse, and it wasn’t a lie; she and Soul _needed_ to take every chance they could to catch up, to collect a new batch of Kishin Egg Souls. She couldn’t leave Soul hanging for a week – he wouldn’t be able to do any missions on his own. He wasn’t exactly the cleanest guy, either, and Maka dreaded the prospect of leaving, and coming back to see the state their apartment would be left in without her to help keep it tidy.

But somehow, telling Luz the truth about needing to catch up only made her feel worse. Deep down, Maka knew that was all it was. An excuse.

And to top it all off, she hadn’t even been able to bring herself to return Luz’s final words as she hastened to hang up.

She couldn’t say “I love you, too.”

“… am I really that spiteful?” she asked, staring down at her lap.

She received no response.

Her hands clenched into fists, and she pressed them into her eyes, leaning back until she staring up at the ceiling.

“… what do I do now?”

She glanced at her phone. Should she call Dad? Ask him to take her along?

Once again, her stomach twisted, but now it writhed with something else – the familiar, bitter resentment. The image of his stupid, lying, cheating face flashed in her mind, making her brow furrow and her fists clench tighter. She heard his loud, obnoxious voice, calling her name every time she called the Death Room; she remembered her phone rang for over an hour every day for a week after Mama had finally found out about it all. Maka had been on the verge of asking Mama to change her phone number when he’d finally stopped.

But even that resentment couldn’t wipe the guilt.

If anything, it clashed, her anger warring against her better nature; as badly as she wanted to avoid having anything to do with her father, the guilt made her want to at least do _something_ for Luz.

Surely, Maka could tolerate a week with her father for the sake of her sister, couldn’t she?

“… what would Mama do?”

Of course, she knew what Mama would do.

Mama never backed down from her decisions. Not ever. She was like a bear, resolute and headstrong, even scary at times.

But there was always something reassuring about that unyielding stubbornness. Mama never seemed scared of anything, not even of going off on her own or separating from Papa. She always stood her ground, and never let anything phase her.

She was everything Maka wanted to be.

Maka took a breath, closing her eyes, slowly letting her lungs fill before letting out a long, slow exhale.

“Maka?”

She jumped as Soul’s voice rang out from the other side of the door.

“You alright?” he asked, giving a knock, “You’ve been in there for a while.”

“I’m fine,” she answered, rising to her feet, “Just… lost in thought.”

“Yeah, sounds like you,” he mused, a grin evident in his tone, “Think you can shake those thoughts of yours? I think we should give Lord Death our decision before we start dinner.”

“Yeah. Coming,” she strode over to the door, pulling it open; Soul slouched against the wall in his usual red jeans and yellow jacket, headband lopsided and eyes half lidded in his familiar lazy smile.

“… so. We’re agreed?”

“We are,” she nodded, “We’re not taking the Souls.”

Soul bobbed his head, “Alright.”

Maka smiled, then started down the hall towards the mirror.

“… can I just ask you a question real quick, Maka?”

She stopped, turning, blinking in confusion, “What is it, Soul?”

“… who’s Luz?”

Maka did her best to not react, but she couldn't stop herself from turning away; it was too much like a flinch, a reflex she couldn’t stop, clutching her arms.

“… I’ve just noticed you’ve been on your phone a lot lately,” Soul padded close, eyes narrowed somewhat as he tried to get a better look at partner – but Maka didn’t meet his gaze.

Regardless, he continued, “In the time I’ve been living with you, I’ve seen you talk to someone on your phone like, five or six times total. And never for over twenty minutes like you were today. I just want to make sure you’re doing okay.”

Maka bit her lip, “… Luz is…”

Her head swam with answers. Sister? Half-sister? Friend?... why was that question so difficult to answer?...

“… she’s…” Maka sighed, “… she’s hard to talk about, Soul. She’s… in a bit of a quandary for me.”

“… okay. Is there a reason for that?”

 _‘Oh, is there ever,_ ’ Maka thought, but she brushed it aside, “Luz hasn’t done anything wrong... I just…”

She trailed off. She didn’t know if this was something she should even be talking about with Soul; she’d never once mentioned Luz to him before, and it was clear he’d only heard her say the name in passing.

She knew he was just concerned for his Meister and partner, but even so…

Soul gave a slow nod, closing his eyes, “… been there, Maka. Been there. It’s _such_ an uncool feeling.”

“… she asked for my help about a week ago,” Maka finally settled, “She wanted me to teach her how to use her Soul Wavelength, and I said I would. That’s why I’ve been on the phone so much.”

He opened one eye, lips parting in a smile, “… heh. Already aspiring to be a teacher, eh?”

“… something like that, yeah,” Maka smiled.

Soul chuckled. He stretched, folding his hands behind his head, “Gotta say. That suits you, Maka. You make it look cool.”

“… you really think so?”

“Of course you do. You’re not exactly the coolest girl around, but what you make look cool? You make look really damn cool.”

She closed her eyes, her heart growing lighter, softer; a little bit of the guilt lifted, a physical weight being pulled up and off her shoulders.

‘ _… I’m sorry, Luz,_ ’ she thought, ‘ _But I gotta stand my ground with Dad. I’ll find another way to make it up to you._ ’

She strode down the hall, raising her hand to trace the familiar number into the mirror.

‘ _I promise._ ’

* * *

“You be sure to enjoy yourself, Spirit. I don’t want a single thought about work to enter your mind while you’re out there,” Death ordered, trying to make his tone sound stern.

The Death Scythe chuckled, rubbing the back of his head, “Well, I’ll try, but I can’t make any promises in that regard. Luz is bound to ask me about the Academy at some point.”

“I suppose that’s fair enough. You’ve made all the arrangements?”

“Almost all of them,” he nodded, “I’m deliberately putting off getting my plane ticket back home.”

“Oh?” the Reaper tilted his head, “Whatever for?”

“It’s a habit I’ve made to remind myself what I’m there for,” Spirit explained, “I bring a limited amount of cash and limit my credit cards. If I splurge too much, I can’t afford my way back home – meaning I have to spend that money on what’s important.”

“Imposing self control on yourself,” Death hummed, “I’m genuinely impressed, Spirit.”

“Hey, if I couldn’t do that much for Luz, what kind of father would I be?”

“I wouldn’t ask Maka that if I were you,” Death warned, “Especially if she doesn’t know about that little detail.”

Spirit’s jaw clenched, but not out of indignance.

How could he be frustrated with anyone but himself, knowing that the Grim Reaper was right?

He stuffed his hands into his pockets, looking down, “It’s… harder here, Lord Death. Here, I have free access to basically everything I want at a moment’s notice. Working on a limited budget and living in a hotel room – that makes it easier to keep myself under control.”

“You could always put a spending cap on yourself,” the headmaster reminded, “Credit card limits are not exclusive to long trips, and I’m sure you could arrange something with your bank as to where most of the money you make goes.”

“Most of the money I make already goes into savings accounts,” Spirit pointed out, “One for each of my daughters, and the one I’ve been using to support Camilia and Luz. I’d spend more on supporting Maka if I could, but during the divorce proceedings, Makoto refused to let me have any sort of custody or even pay for child support. I can’t even pay for her schoolbooks, legally speaking.”

“And yet, you still have enough to spend five nights out of seven at Chupacabra’s,” Death countered, chiding, “Including the night Maka and Soul fought that cat for their first Witch’s soul. You only barely made it back to watch the last five minutes of that battle.”

That promptly shut the Death Scythe up; once again, he broke his gaze from the headmaster’s, Spirit silently cursing himself as shame washed through him from another hole in the floodgate.

After a moment, Death spoke again, his tone apologetic “… I’m sorry, Spirit. It wasn’t my intent to ruin your mood right before you go to visit your daughter.”

“No. Don’t apologize,” he sighed, “You’re right. You’re… completely right.”

Before either of them could speak further, the mirror went dark; its surface rippled with rings of light from each corner, a sound similar to that of a ringtone blaring out with a rhythmic chime.

“… you should go,” Death urged, turning away, “We can continue this discussion at a later date. As of now, you are officially off the clock.”

“… thank you, Lord Death.”

With that, Spirit turned, and started down the path beneath the guillotine gates.

Death listened to his redoubled pace for a long few moments before letting out a heavy sigh, “I really wish there was more I could do for him, beyond lecture him about being a better parent.”

He turned to the mirror, placing a hand on its surface, and silencing the ringing. The dark surface quickly cleared, lighting up, and showing two of the most promising students that the Grim Reaper had ever seen in all his long years.

“ _Hello, Lord Death? Are you there?_ ” Maka Albarn called, her usual smile in place.

“Hello, hello!” he called, “Scythe Meister Maka and Demon Weapon Soul Eater! It’s good to finally hear from you both!”

Soul’s half-lidded gaze swept back and forth over the mirror, his brow creasing into a frown beneath his headband, “ _… weird. Where’s the old creep? Usually he’s giving me all sorts of Hell by now._ ”

“Spirit is currently off duty, Soul,” Death declared, “He’ll be taking about two week’s worth of vacation starting today.”

Soul blinked, “ _Two weeks without the idiot screaming in our faces?_ ” the white-haired teen paused, then let out a laugh, “ _That’s gotta be the coolest thing I’ve heard today!_ ”

He turned to his partner, grinning, “ _Two weeks without your old man, Maka. If that’s not good news, I don’t know what is._ ”

“ _Y-Yeah,_ ” Maka stammered, trying to force a smile, “ _It’s… great news. Just… just great._ ”

Soul’s laughter immediately faded, levity replaced with concern; Maka had crossed her arms over her stomach, and her expression was one of anxiety, knowing that she had failed to hide her unease.

Before Soul could voice his questions, however, Death interrupted, “So, what is it that you’ve you called about? Have you finally come to a decision regarding the Kishin Souls?”

“ _We have, actually,_ ” Maka answered, clearly grateful for the shift in topic. She straightened, her smile becoming more genuine, “ _Lord Death, we have decided to decline the ninety nine Kishin Egg Souls collected by Black Star and Tsubaki._ ”

“… oh,” Death managed, more than a little surprised by the verdict. He glanced between the Weapon and Meister, gauging their posture; Soul, though clearly still concerned about Maka’s earlier apprehension, had settled into a relaxed posture, only giving his Meister the occasional glance. Maka, meanwhile, stood straight, hands folded behind her back, eyes clear and brows creased with a knowing determination.

The Reaper could sense absolutely no disagreement between the pair.

“… and you’re quite certain about this?” he asked, “I know it’s bad form to encourage benefitting off work that isn’t your own, but I was quite serious about my offer – and what I said about the Souls you have already collected. If you refuse these ninety-nine Souls, you _will_ have to start over.”

“ _Lord Death,_ ” it was Soul that spoke this time, stepping forwards, “ _We’ve already talked about this between us. We know what saying no here means. But honestly, we can’t take those Souls._ ”

“ _Soul is right, sir,_ ” Maka confirmed, “ _We worked hard to get up to ninety-nine Souls. It does suck that we’ll have to start over, but… honestly, it doesn’t feel right to take Souls someone else collected._

“ _We don’t want to benefit off of someone else’s hard work; we want to make Soul into a Death Scythe, the_ right _way._ ”

If Death could, he would have blinked. Slowly, surprise gave way to pride as he stared at the pair before him. So young, and they’d already developed such sterling integrity and character that they were willing to completely start over, despite the fact that they had lost all those Souls at no fault of their own…

These two had moral cores and dedication that most adults would envy.

“… well, if you’re both quite sure,” he finally conceded, a smile more than evident in his tone, “Then the both of you are back down to zero Kishin Egg Souls; it won’t reflect on your grades, but that doesn't mean you’re not starting from scratch. You’ll have to work hard to catch back up!”

“ _We will, sir!_ ” Maka agreed, pumping her fist.

“ _Who do you think we are, Lord Death?_ ” Soul grinned, “ _We’re the coolest Weapon and Meister pair at the Academy. This is just a bump in the road for us. We’ll be back up to ninety-nine Souls in no time._ ”

“I look forwards to it, then,” Death nodded, “Is there anything else you wish to discuss?”

“ _No sir,_ ” Maka shook her head.

“ _Think that’s about it, yeah,_ ” Soul agreed.

“Then I bid you both goodnight!”

“ _Goodnight, Lord Death!_ ”

“ _Adios._ ”

With that, the mirror went dark, and then reverted to its regular reflection. Death stared into his own mask for a long while, replaying the memories of his conversations – with Spirit, with Maka and Soul…

And his thoughts turned to that of a boy with golden eyes, pale skin, and three stripes in his hair.

“… hm,” he mused, “Maybe I should look into taking a few days off to spend with my own son…”

* * *

“… _alguien, por favor, mátame,_ ” Luz groaned, letting her forehead smack into the desk; the pile of unfinished assignments had slowly dwindled over the course of the afternoon. It was now well into the evening, and despite the fact that she was finally in the last stretch of worksheets, the Latina had long since stopped caring about the actual quality of the work she put into them.

She just wanted this nightmare to be over.

“I swear, they’ve given me more homework than everyone else,” she bemoaned, letting her head roll to the side so she could peer out the window at the moon, “Seriously, how many more assignments can they add? It’s _June._ Shouldn’t they be winding down for the year?”

She pulled out her phone, looking at the time with dull, tired eyes.

It was almost eight.

She’d been at this for over four hours.

“… I’m taking a break,” she decided, pushing up and out of her seat, “I’m tired, and hungry…”

Hands in her pockets, Luz slowly descended the stairs, the wood creaking beneath her feet at every step. Mom still wasn’t home – she’d texted earlier to let her know she wouldn’t be back until it was late – so she still had the house all to herself.

She didn’t like it, if she were to be perfectly honest. It was at once a lonely and frightening thing, knowing there was no one around. It was one thing to be the only one who was awake; there was at least still someone else, even if you had to wake them.

It was quite another to be well and truly alone - and Luz often found herself scared by every little noise, her mind immediately blowing them up into much larger things than they actually were. Branches hitting the windows became people trying to break in; the sounds of an old house settling became a monster from one too many late night creepypastas making the floorboards creak as it came to take her.

Luz knew that, realistically, it wasn’t any of those things. It was her mind getting the better of her, some sick trick played on her by herself.

It was one of the only times she actively disliked her overactive imagination.

She entered the kitchen, pulling open the fridge and perusing the selection of leftovers, “… nuggies… burger… broccoli ‘n cauliflower…”

Gradually, Luz amassed a small assortment of food, dumping it all in a pan with oil; once she was satisfied with her selection, she poured herself a glass as she waited for it all to heat up, not in the mood for a frigid meal.

“Stupid lactose intolerance,” she muttered, taking a sip of the lactose free milk, “I’d happily trade any Weapon trait for the ability to actually eat ice cream right about now…”

Soon enough, the sizzle and scent of the food reached her, a small smile breaking out on her face. It already smelled good… maybe she’d feel better once she had something warm in her stomach.

Her ears twitched as the lock on the front door clicked, sliding out of place; the door swung open, and familiar, tired footsteps quickly followed, a relieved sigh reaching her ears.

Luz turned, and there stood Mom, shrugging off her coat, hanging it and her bag on the hooks on the wall. When their eyes met, she gave a shaky smile.

“ _Hola, Mija._ ”

“ _Hola, Mami,_ ” Luz gave her food another stir, her nerves now soothed by her mother’s presence. She let her smile stretch a little wider, glad that she was no longer alone.

Mom slipped off her shoes, and didn’t so much sit down at the table as much as she collapsed into her chair, taking off her glasses and rubbing her brow.

“… Mom? Are you okay?” Luz felt her smile slip, “You look exhausted.”

“… ‘s been a long day, Luz,” her mother’s heavier accent was laden with lethargy.

“Was it the crash a week ago?”

“No. No, it wasn’t,” she shook her head, “Most of them have already recovered. Two of them had broken bones and need to stay in the hospital a little longer, but they should be out by the end of the week.”

“Then… what happened?”

A deep breath, her mother closing her eyes and clenching her jaw in unmistakable frustration, “There are… _issues_ with the hospital’s funding.”

“… oh,” Luz felt her heart drop, returning her attention to the stovetop.

A slow exhale through her nose, “It’s possible we… may have to cut some staff. And we’re already short on staff as it is,”

“… _lo siento, Mami,_ ” Luz apologized, “That… that’s…”

Mom raised a placating hand, managing a smile, “It’s alright, Luz. We’ll figure things out, one way or another.”

“… alright,” Luz sighed, finally dumping her food onto her plate, “… do you want any?”

“Thank you, _Mija,_ but I ate on the way home,” her mother declined, “Don’t worry about me.”

“If you’re sure.”

Luz sat down across from her Mami, taking the first few bites. It wasn’t as good reheated – but then, most things weren’t. It would still be enough to get her through the rest of the night, though.

“… and what about you? Have you finished all your homework?”

“Almost,” Luz spoke around a mouth full of chicken nugget before swallowing, hard, “I swear the pile keeps getting bigger every time I look at it though. I really do have to wonder if they’re even grading any of these.”

“It’s just practice for your finals,” Mom assured, “It will be over soon.”

“And then I get to go to summer camp,” she grumbled, stabbing her vegetables with a fork.

“It won’t be so bad, _Mija._ I promise.”

Luz sighed, settling back in her chair and staring wistfully down at her plate, poking the chunk of burger with her fork.

“… I know you don’t want to go, Luz,” the doctor reached across the table to stroke her daughter’s hand, “But please believe me when I say that this is for the best.”

“I either get sent to a mind numbing camp meant to curb my creativity, or I get to live in a city and go to a school where I better fit in and where I get to see Dad more than twice a year,” she grumbled, “I don’t really see how option A is the better choice.”

A long moment of quiet lingered between the two of them.

“… I’m sorry,” Luz set her fork down and closed her eyes, rubbing them with her clenched hands, “I just… I’ve had kind of a bad day, too. I don’t mean…”

“… No,” her mother crossed her arms, empathetic, “You _do_ mean it. And I understand why. This… must seem like an extremely harsh punishment, to you.”

“But you’re still doing it,” Luz took another bite of chicken nugget, sullen.

“… I am,” the doctor did her best to keep her tone resolute.

“… can I… can I ask why?” Luz began, raising her gaze to meet her mother’s, brown eyes wide and brows upturned, “I just… I don’t _get it._ Death City sounds like everything I’ve ever _dreamed_ of. A place where I can actually fit in, where being weird isn’t treated like some kind of plague. Dad lives there, Maka lives there, and the DWMA itself sounds incredible. I could make actual _friends_ there. I could even _help_ people.

“And you,” she gestured, “You could find work there easily. Dad’s told me how much the school needs doctors. It sounds _perfect._ ”

Luz paused, and breathed, trying not to get herself too excited; slowly she looked down, “But… instead, we’re here. You don’t… _want_ to go. You’re choosing to keep me in a school that sent me to the principal’s office for flipping my eyelids inside out for ten seconds. You’re choosing Camp Reality Check over Death City – and I don’t understand _why._ ”

Her mother took a deep breath of her own, closing her eyes; for a long moment, neither of them spoke, Luz waiting for her Mami to break the silence.

When Mom finally opened her eyes, Luz was surprised to see tears brimming at their edges.

“Luz,” she started, voice soft, “It’s not that I _want_ this for you. It’s not that I _want_ to send you to that summer camp, or keep you in a school that refuses to understand you. It’s that… Death City, and the DWMA, are not the perfect solution that you seem to believe they are.”

Luz’s brow furrowed slightly, “What do you mean?”

“ _Mija,_ I want you to think about this for a moment. The DWMA is not short of staff in any regard. Why do you think the school would be in constant need of more doctors?”

Her forehead creased further, her expression morphing into one of thought, “… I don’t know. I just… assumed no one took the job.”

“… the DWMA is where Weapons and Meisters go to train,” Mom stated, “I’m sure your father has told you about the missions that they go on.”

Luz nodded, “He’s told me all about a lot of Maka’s missions. They collect Kishin Egg Souls to prevent the creation of another Kishin.”

“They are sent to fight murderers, and worse,” her mother confirmed, “Now come back to the original question. Why do you think the DWMA constantly needs more doctors?”

Slowly, the connection formed in Luz’s mind; her eyes widened, “… kids don’t get hurt that often, do they?”

“I don’t know how often it happens, now. But I know it still happens,” she folded her hands on the table, doing her best to maintain her gaze with her daughter, “Children younger than you are sent out to fight _monsters,_ _Mija._ And they don’t always come back okay. Sometimes… they don’t come back at all.”

Luz bit her lip, her eyes once again falling to stare at her plate as a cold chill ran down her spine. All of a sudden she couldn't get the image of Maka out of her head, lying lifeless on the pavement, staring up at the sky with unfocused eyes as blood pooled around her…

She shook her head, trying to clear it, and returned her gaze to her mother, “… but… they’re helping to save the world, aren’t they? Weapons and Meisters travel the world, fighting killers and protecting people. Isn’t that worth something?”

“… I can’t justify it, Luz,” her mother shook her head, “I tried for years to justify it to myself, and I just _can’t. Nothing_ is worth asking children to lay down their lives like that.”

Silence reigned over the dining room for a long few minutes. Luz had stopped trying to eat completely, trying to wrap her head around what she had just been told.

“… Dad always said that students were trained to deal with monsters before they were sent out,” she mumbled, “To make sure they could handle things like that.”

“They are,” Mom acknowledged, “But you can’t account for every monster. Some are worse than others. The day a student gets hurt, they are hurt severely.”

Luz fell silent once more.

“If the DWMA were just an academy that taught people how to be Meisters, and Weapons how to use their powers, I would not have such an umbrage with sending you there,” she continued, “But it isn’t just an academy. It’s an _army._ And I won’t send you to fight in that war.

“Do you understand, _Mija?_ Why I don’t want to send you to the DWMA?”

“… I don’t know,” Luz admitted, “I… I don’t know. It’s… I knew about the monsters and the possibility of getting hurt, but… everything you’ve told me is…”

“… the complete opposite of what your father told you?”

Luz nodded.

“… Spirit still believes that the DWMA, for all its flaws, is ultimately a force of good in our world,” Mami explained, “Whether or not he’s right… I don’t know. Maybe I’m not seeing things as clearly as I believe I am… I doubt you’re getting a full picture from either one of us.”

“… maybe not,” Luz pushed her chair back, slowly rising to her feet, “But… even so… I…”

“… you’ve had a long day,” her mother’s voice turned soothing, a bittersweet smile on her face, “And a longer night. I think… it might be best if we leave the conversation there for now.”

“… okay,” Luz picked up her plate.

“You’re not going to finish?”

“I’m not hungry anymore, Mom.”

“… I’m sorry.”

This time, Luz didn’t answer, merely returning to the kitchen and putting what was left of her food away.

“… your father will be on his way tomorrow. Would you like to come with me to see him at the airport?”

Luz turned once more, a faint smile on her face, “… I’d like that.”

“Alright,” Mom bobbed her head, then checked her phone, “… almost nine. It feels closer to eleven.”

“I know,” Luz rolled her shoulders.

“… I think we should head to bed,” Mami stood, and then strode over, pulling Luz into a hug and gently kissing her on the forehead, “ _Buenos noches, Mija. Te amo._ ”

“ _Te amo, Mami,_ ” Luz returned, responding with a hug of her own, “ _Buenos noches._ ”

With that, her mother turned, and started up the stairs to her room.

After washing what few dishes she had made, Luz followed suit, flopping down on her bed and not bothering to give her homework a second glance.

She just put in her earbuds, set her playlist to random and stared at the moon as the conversations from her day – with both Maka and her mother – played in her head on loop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Starting to see why I added the Slow Burn tag? Don't worry, things will hopefully start picking up soon, but even then I think this story will have a somewhat slow pace. 
> 
> Please leave your thoughts below! I hope you enjoyed the third chapter of Owls and Souls, Witches and Resonance!


	4. Parent-Teacher Lectures

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Soul Eater or Owl House.
> 
> But if I did, I would know what happens next in Owl House.

_He stood alone in the void._

_There was no light. No shadow. No discernible shape or line for his eyes to follow, beyond that of his hands, his sleeves, his hair, his pants and shoes. He felt the ground beneath his feet, solid, but when he searched for it, he couldn’t see it._

_There was nothing. Just endless white._

_He blinked._

_“_ Spirit. _”_

_He turned, spinning to face the voice._

_For a moment, he mistook her to be Maka. But Maka wasn’t that tall; the woman’s shoulders were slim, her figure slight, her glasses enriching the emerald green eyes that stared at him with the same cold, marked disapproval, and somehow it was worse than when she yelled at him. Her pale skin matched her blond hair, so pale it was practically grey, tied back in a single tail that ran down her back. Her black skirt and blazer could have easily been mistaken for clothes of mourning, but he knew that wasn’t why she wore them._

_This woman was never one to mourn anything._

_“Makoto?” he asked, “Makoto, is that you?”_

_He started towards her, quickly closing the distance between them-_

_Only for her to shove her hand into his chest, fingers splayed._

_He felt her Wavelength pulse through her palm and into his sternum, making his ribs vibrate and sing with pain he only distantly noticed. He was flung backwards, the void spinning as he tumbled back across the ground, every scrape and crash leaving him with more aches that felt far more dull than they should have._

_“_ No, _” she declared._

_He pushed himself up, unsteadily, slowly rising to his feet. He stared at her, “… I’m gonna go ahead and assume I deserved that.”_

_She didn’t respond. Instead, a second shape crept out from behind her, much smaller – clad in a pink cross between a dress and overalls, she clung to her mother’s skirt, her green eyes a little more pale, the blond of her hair a little more pronounced. The girl stared at him with wide eyes, head tilted._

_“Maka?” his eyes widened, and once again he approached._

_“_ No, _” Makoto declared again, more force behind the word, enough to make the space around her tremble. He felt it beneath his feet, making him stumble._

_“Makoto,” he spoke, his tone warning, “You are not keeping me from my daughter.”_

_“_ … Choose. _”_

_He blinked, confused, “Choose?”_

_His former Meister slowly raised a hand, pointing; once again, he turned._

_… and there stood another woman, her brown hair tied up in a bun at the back of her head, her skin a deep tan beneath the pristine white of the doctor’s coat she wore. Her frame was large, with broad shoulders and hips that hinted at surprising strength. Her eyes were warm, warm like the melted chocolate they resembled, but she wore no smile – though she lacked the judgement Makoto carried. If anything, she seemed more tired than judgemental._

_Beside her stood another little girl, a bit bigger than Maka, swaddled in a purple sweater, with short, almost boyish dark hair and wide brown eyes that sought to learn everything about anything they fixed on._

_Camilia and Luz._

_He stared for a long moment, then slowly turned to look back at Makoto, “… no.”_

_“_ Choose, Spirit, _” she repeated,_ _“_ You can’t have both families. _”_

 _“I am_ not _going to choose between my daughters, Makoto!”_

_For a long while, nothing moved. Not a sound was made._

_“_ … then you will have neither. _”_

_The declaration was followed by a dark shadow appearing behind both women; his eyes shot back and forth as the shadows grew, shapeless and seemingly infinitely deep._

_“Maka!” he shouted, reaching out, but it was too late; Makoto had already taken the girl, and retreated back into the dark behind her, disappearing from view entirely._

_Gritting his teeth, he spun, sprinting towards his other daughter, “Luz! Luz, come here!”_

_Neither Camilia, nor Luz seemed to hear him. They stood, staring, seemingly oblivious to the dark that threatened to swallow them whole._

_No matter how hard he pushed himself, he couldn't get any closer._

_They too were taken, disappearing into the dark._

_Nonetheless, he didn’t stop; or at least, he did not stop willingly. He continued trying to sprint forwards even as what traction he had beneath his feet simply ceased to exist, leaving him scrabbling for purchase in midair in fruitless pursuit of his daughters._

_The white gradually disappeared from view entirely, leaving him alone in the pitch black as the darkness tugged at him from either side._

_“Come back!” he shouted, though even his voice seemed to be swallowed up by the shadows, leaving him screaming in silence, “Please, come back!”_

_Even if he could be heard, he received no answer; instead, the pull grew greater, stronger, yanking him ramrod straight and keeping him bound. He struggled with all his might, but to no avail; he was kept in place only by the opposing forces, each trying to drag him into its shadowy pit._

_Two separate forces, grabbing hold and refusing to let go._

_It was like he was being pulled in two…_

* * *

“Sir?”

Spirit’s eyes shot open, gasping for breath as he jolted back into the waking world. His eyes shot back and forth as he gripped the arm rests of his seat, ready to unleash his scythe blades at a moment’s notice.

“Sir, are you okay?”

The woman’s voice made him snap his head up to face her; a woman in a uniform stood over him, mildly concerned.

Slowly, he regained his bearings, his eyes sweeping his surroundings; people were lined up in small rows of seats up and down a small corridor, all facing the same direction and murmuring among themselves in muted voices. His ears seemed to press inwards with an uncomfortable pressure, leaving him with a resounding headache.

One look out the window was all he needed to confirm.

This was why Spirit _hated_ falling asleep on airplanes.

“I’m fine, miss, thank you,” he assured the stewardess, “Though if you could get me some water…?”

She shook her head, “I’m sorry, sir, but we’re going to be landing very soon. I’m afraid you’re going to have to wait.”

He nodded, “Alright. Thank you…”

As she walked away, the Death Scythe slumped back in his seat, letting his lips curl in discomfort; every part of him seemed to ache from sitting in this uncomfortable chair for so long. He couldn’t even remember how long the flight was supposed to be, but whatever the case it was enough to leave him yearning for the chance to stand and stretch his legs, to get the kinks out of his spine and shoulder and get an ibuprofen for his headache…

“… just a few more minutes, Spirit,” he coached himself, actively resisting the urge to reach for his bag, “You’re almost on the ground. You can last a few more minutes. You’re a Death Scythe, for cryin’ out loud.”

He let his eyes angle back out the window, staring at out across the city. He’d left Death City to catch his plane a whole other city over at two in the morning, taking off at roughly three thirty; it had only been a three, maybe four hour flight, but going off the time difference between each State, it was probably almost eight already.

At least he’d been able to get a row all to himself; a small blessing, but a blessing nonetheless.

He felt the plane jerk, then gradually descend, the engines picking up in volume; gradually, the city grew closer, the buildings more distinct. Camilia was probably already at the airport, which in itself was over an hour-long drive from town...

“… heh. All I can think about is the time until I can see Luz,” he mused, leaning on his armrest with his chin in his hand, “I’m like a little kid waiting for his birthday.”

Eventually, the plane touched down, slowly pulling in towards the airport; when the intercom finally announced that the passengers could begin filing out, Spirit let out a sigh of relief, pushing himself up and stretching himself out as best he could before grabbing his backpack, taking a painkiller for his headache, and slowly making his way through the line.

Even with the air conditioning on full blast, he could feel the hot June sun beating down on him through the airport windows; while his job frequently saw him up at all hours of the night, oftentimes, he found himself prowling Death City in the middle of the day as well, trapped in the sweltering heat, the cobblestone making up nearly every surface turning the city into some horrifying combination of frying pan and convection oven.

In his youth, he’d had no idea how anyone could manage to make it through the hot Nevada days in a full suit and tie, much less without complaint. As a fully-grown man, however, he had his answer.

That answer was by suffering.

Silently.

All the time.

That was the main reason he’d taken the opportunity to instead wear simpler clothing for this trip; he had brought his suit in case something came up, of course… but he doubted that anything would.

Honestly, even if it was just for a couple weeks, it was good to wear jeans and a t-shirt again.

After grabbing his suitcase from the baggage claim, Spirit finally stepped through the sliding doors that marked the end of security and into the ground floor; a large crowd of onlookers had gathered as people scattered to and fro, some off on their own, others quickly pairing up with people who had obviously been waiting for them, for some reason or another. Drivers met with clients, family members reunited, and the noise left Spirit’s ears ringing.

But he paid none of it any attention. Instead, his blue eyes scanned the crowd, searching…

Eventually, his eyes met hers.

Camilia gave him a slight smile, her hair done up as it usually was. Slowly, she raised a hand in a small wave, acknowledging she had seen him; he returned the smile, and raised his arm in a wave of his own, taking a step forwards-

“ _PAPI!_ ”

Only to be nearly winded as he was tackled with enough force to make a linebacker proud, a pair of thin arms wrapping around his chest with a crushing force they should not have been capable of. He wheezed, stumbling back slightly, only barely catching the elated shriek of joy that rose above the low hum of the crowd.

Despite that, however, he grinned, staring down at the small figure that had barrelled into him like a miniature train. Luz was still wearing that white and purple kitty cat hoodie, short sleeved and thin enough to be worn even in the summer; when he’d first gotten it for her three years earlier, she’d refused to take it off during practically his entire stay, and according to Camilia, she still wore it nearly every day.

And yet, despite that, it was still in nearly perfect condition – he couldn’t see a single stain or fray in its fabric. Given how inexpensive it had been, Luz must have taken remarkably good care of it. It still matched her complexion and her short, almost tomboyish hair perfectly.

“Hey there, _Mija,_ ” Spirit managed between gasps for breath, returning the embrace, “You’re getting bigger and stronger every time I see you. You’re not gonna be able to keep doing that for much longer.”

“And why not?” she asked, glancing up with a sly look on her face.

“Because next time you just might knock me over,” he explained, closing his eyes and pursing his lips as he did his absolute best to imitate the matter-of-fact tone Maka always used when she was lecturing someone.

The only response he got from his daughter was another laugh before she finally let go, “Sorry! I’m just so glad to finally see you again!”

He chuckled, gently ruffling her hair as he stared into her eyes, eyes that held the world within them; they shone in the light, bearing energy and enthusiasm he could only dream of keeping up with. Her brilliant smile made his heart swell with joy and pride alike, glad to know that even at fourteen, she was still as gleeful and exuberant as ever.

“I’m glad to see you too, Luz.”

With that, Spirit took his daughter’s hand, and let her guide him through the crowd, where Camilia stood waiting for them.

In that moment, he felt it. Something he hadn’t felt in months.

True, genuine joy.

* * *

“You’re both always out so _early_ ,” Blair whined, leaning across the table with her lips downturned in a pout, clad in only a pink bathrobe, even her hat haphazardly thrown to the side and leaving her ears free to tilt to the sides in an image of pure misery, “I haven’t even gotten to sleep yet and you’re already on your way out. What happened to bacon and eggs in the morning?”

Maka ground her teeth, resisting the urge to grab the oversized hat off the counter and yank it down over the cat-woman’s eyes. She did her best to keep herself focused on the finishing touches of her essay, cursing her laptop as the letters in the document appeared a solid five seconds after she tapped them into the keyboard.

Soul, however, just gave a tired sigh, looking up from his phone, a piece of toast hanging from his teeth, “Don’t have the time, Blair. Slept in a little too late.”

“You call _this_ sleeping in?” the cat-woman stared at him, appalled.

“You kidding? Usually Maka’s waking me up at five thirty to get ready for class,” he looked back down, continuing to scroll through his phone.

“Ugh. No,” she shook her head, horrified, looking over to the Meister, “Even six in the morning is way too early for _anyone_ to be up and about. Why would you punish your little Scythey by making him get up this early?... why would you punish _yourself_ by getting up this early?”

“It’s not a punishment, it’s something all students have to do,” Maka growled, still not looking up from her essay as she once again saved the document, not trusting her laptop to not immediately crash, “Soul and I have to be up and awake by six at the latest, and out the door by six thirty in order to make it to class on time. Class always starts at seven o’clock, sharp, and if you’re late or absent without an excuse, it’s a big mark against your grades.”

“Bluuuugh,” Blair stuck her tongue out, screwing her eyes shut, “That sounds absolutely _miserable,_ Maka.”

“That’s because it is,” Soul grumbled around the last of his toast.

Maka rolled her eyes, running through the essay one last time; satisfied with her results, she swapped to her email, and sent it off, pulling her laptop shut without responding to the Weapon’s jab.

“Look at it this way,” she began, “The early start means that school gets out that much earlier for us DWMA students. Usually we’re out just a little bit after two unless extracurricular stuff keeps us in school – though I’m sure you’ve noticed that, given that you’ve insisted on hanging around for the past week.”

“I still haven’t heard a no~…” Blair sang, smiling.

“Keep at it. You’re certainly making a good case for our refusal,” Maka huffed, setting her laptop aside.

“Hmmm…” Blair hummed, golden eyes fluttering closed as she leaned further forwards on the table.

“Soul, you got all your assignments done, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, they’re done,” He pushed himself up, stretching.

“The essay _and_ the worksheets?” Maka asked, starting towards the door.

“Yes, Maka, they’re done,” Soul huffed, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he followed her, “You asked me that last night.”

“I’m just trying to make sure.”

“You worry too much.”

“No, our grades reflect on both of us; I’m not gonna get a bad grade because you spend your night watching bad anime instead of doing your homework.”

“Have a good day, you two!” Blair called.

They stopped, turning to face her, surprised etched into both of their expressions.

“… I’m sorry?” Maka queried, confused.

“I said ‘have a good day, you two,’” Blair repeated, tone bright despite her clear exhaustion. She opened one golden eye, giving a light wave, “Isn’t that what you say when your friends head off?”

The pair looked at one another, then to the cat; it was obvious that they hadn’t expected her to make such a remark, as though they’d thought her too selfish to say it.

Eventually, though, Maka crossed her arms, looking away, “Yeah, sure.”

“We’ll keep it cool,” Soul turned away, “Don’t mess the place up while we’re out.”

“Don’ worry about that,” the cat yawned, “I’m gonna take a bath, then I’m going straight to bed. I’m tiiired.”

“You do that,” Maka stated dryly, refraining from saying something more scathing, “See you, Blair.”

“See you.”

With that, she heard the door open, and close.

Stretching, Blair got to her feet, and padded down the hall towards the bathroom.

“Well, it’s been a week,” she noted aloud, “Haven’t been kicked out yet.”

She pushed open the door, and hung her bathrobe on the hooks, turning to the bathtub. As she twisted the knob, the steam that rose from the heated water already pleasant in her nose; she breathed deep, stepping into the gently rising pool, and pouring in a generous helping of her favourite bubble bath soap before sinking in, sighing contentedly.

“… maybe I should start looking to sell once I wake up,” she mused, letting her eyes fall closed once again, “That… or start my job hunt… I wonder if there’s anywhere that needs a cute bartender…”

* * *

“Mmmm! _¡Muy bien!_ ”

Spirit smiled around his mouthful of burger, watching as Luz eagerly swapped between her own burger and fries with incredible voraciousness, taking a bite of one, then the other, sometimes without even swallowing first.

“Practicing for an eating contest, are you?” he teased.

“Hmm, yhm nmhmh nmmh!” she paused, swallowed, then wiped her mouth, grinning, “Hey, you never know! If I can get a free book or game or something out of it? I might actually be able to pull out a win!”

He laughed, “Be glad your mother isn’t here to hear you say that. I don’t think she’d be happy to hear about that little plan of yours.”

Luz’s eyes flickered, but did not dim, “She’s not happy with most of my plans. What’s one more?”

Despite her chipper tone, Spirit could still detect the small note of sullenness in his daughter’s voice.

After she had picked Spirit up and dropped him off to pick up his rental car, Camilia had once again been called back in to work; she had been expecting it, at the very least, and had planned to leave Luz with him regardless.

The day was theirs’ to spend together.

The first thing Spirit had done after finally getting his rental was take Luz for an early lunch.

He was surprised Maxine’s Bar and Grill was open this early, but hey – he was hardly complaining. Pretty much all their food was solid, even if Luz was really only in the mood for burgers.

“Hey, Dad?”

“Yeah?”

Luz took another fry, her tone curious, “I admit I can’t remember if I’ve asked you this before or not…”

“Hey, if you have a question, ask away,” he gestured, “Doesn’t matter if you’ve asked it before.”

“Okay,” She ate the fry, setting what was left of her burger down for a moment to take a sip of her cola, “Then… what do Souls taste like?”

Spirit raised an eyebrow, “What, Kishin Egg Souls?”

“Yeah,” Luz set the glass down, “That’s part of your job, right? Collecting Kishin Eggs?”

“Not so much, these days,” he admitted with a chuckle, rubbing the back of his head, “That’s mostly left to Academy students, Luz. I haven’t gone on an actual collection or Witch hunt in a long time.”

“Riiiiight,” Luz’s eyes shone with sudden realization, “You’re a teacher!”

“And Lord Death’s personal Weapon,” he noted, extending his finger and, with a flash of light, transforming it into a curved, sharp blade, small enough that it wouldn’t be noticed by the other patrons. He stabbed another fry, “I can’t usually be separated from him for long the way I am now, Luz.”

“What, are your Souls linked somehow?” she asked, “Is _that_ what makes you a Death Scythe?”

He laughed, “No, no, it’s not quite like that. That’s not how Soul Resonance works. I’m just the main Death Scythe on deck; if something goes wrong, I’m the Grim Reaper’s Weapon and the DWMA’s last line of defence.”

“Oooooh, so you’re the BFG,” Luz nodded, grinning.

“Someone’s been playing DOOM behind her Mom’s back.”

Spirit couldn’t stifle a snicker at the faint ‘Ack!’ that escaped the Latina’s throat, followed by the guilty smile, her hands rising with her shoulders in a shrug, “Uuuuh… theology research?”

“Luz, the only religions I’m aware of that include the worship of guns are ones I don’t think are really worth researching,” he stated, thoroughly amused.

“… please don’t tell _Mami._ ”

“Don’t tell your mother what?”

“That-“ Luz stopped short… then smiled again, “Oh, you’re tricky.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he smiled wryly, “But back on topic. Yes, I’m basically the DWMA’s BFG. The strongest Weapon the Academy has on hand.”

“So _cooool_ ,” Luz drawled, and Spirit felt his heart swell with equal parts joy and pride; no matter how many times it was confirmed to him, the reminder that one of his daughters still loved and admired him was always another point in his book.

“I do have to note, I’m honestly more of a display piece than anything else,” he stated, letting the blade transform back into his finger “I spend most of my time hanging out with Lord Death in the Death Room than I do even teaching, really. It might be more apt to say I’m less the DWMA’s BFG and more the DWMA’s fire extinguisher.”

“Well, that’s still really important,” Luz said, tone reassuring, “It’s true nobody really thinks about the fire extinguisher, but there’s a reason it’s there. It’s a reassurance and a tool in case a fire breaks out. Nobody wants a fire to happen, but it’s good to be prepared for one, right?”

“Hey, I never said I was complaining,” Spirit raised his hands, “Means I get to focus on what’s important in my life!”

“Yeah?” Luz tilted her head, “What’s that?”

“You and Maka,” he grinned, closing his eyes as he leaned back in the booth, “There’s nothing in this world that I love more than my daughters.”

“… yeah,” her smile grew soft, her eyes falling to her plate, “Me and Maka…”

“… are you okay, Luz?”

“I’m okay,” she nodded, “I’m okay. Just… kinda wanted Maka to come too, you know?”

 _‘Really wanted her to, you mean,’_ Spirit thought, though he kept it to himself; he knew exactly how Luz felt. Instead, he gave her a gentle smile, “… I know, kiddo. I know.”

“… she said she couldn’t come because she and Soul had to catch up… she’s a really good student, huh?”

“One of the best I’ve ever seen. Very dedicated to everything she does. Though I will say,” he raised a finger, pointing at her, “You’re far more prone to thinking outside the box. You’re just as good a student – just in different ways.”

“You think so?” the Latina seemed genuinely perplexed by the statement.

“Of course!” the Death Scythe exclaimed, “Take a look at yourself right now – you’re asking me all sorts of questions. You’re eager to learn. It’s just a matter of finding what it is you’re interested in and pursuing it.

“ _Without_ burning yourself out,” he quickly added, taking the final bite of his burger, “That’s a good way to take something you love and turn it into something you hate.”

Luz’s eyes were at once wide open and totally unfocused, seeming to stare into the open air as her jaw worked silently, opening and closing, but no sound emerging. A thousand thoughts seemed to be rushing through her mind, thoughts Spirit could only guess at, but he could tell one thing for certain with a single glance at her expression.

This was the first time Luz had ever been told she was a good student. That her curiosity and creativity were something actually desirable.

Slowly, another smile worked its way across the Latina’s face, different from her usual boundless enthusiasm. This was… quieter, somehow. Understanding that brought not excitement, but a feeling of true profundity.

“… _¿_ _Papi?_ ”

“Yes, Luz?”

“ _Gracias._ ”

“… _Siempre, Corazoncita._ ”

Luz settled back in her seat, closing her eyes with a serenity Spirit has only rarely seen from his daughter; even if just for a minute, it seemed that all the weight on her shoulders had been lifted.

For the moment, all her worries had been dispelled.

 _‘Score one for Spirit Albarn,’_ the Death Scythe thought, a soft smile of his own forming, _‘Take_ that, _Luz’s Misery.’_

“… we got pretty off topic, huh?”

He blinked; when he finally realized Luz had spoken, he sheepishly rubbed the back of his head again, “Yeah… I guess we did.”

“… so. Can I keep asking questions?”

“You just did. But you may.”

“Alright then. Kishin Egg Souls?” she asked again, settling back forwards and picking up her burger again, “How _do_ they taste? And Soul Resonance – if you don’t have to be in Death City twenty-four seven, three sixty five, then how does that work? And what’s the difference between a Meister’s and Weapon’s abilities? Can’t Weapons use their Soul Wavelength in all the same ways a Meister can? And why can’t Meisters eat Souls?”

“Well…” he began, arcing his neck back and staring thoughtfully at the ceiling, “Let’s answer these one at a time. It’s been a while since I’ve had one, but… Kishin Egg Souls are actually kinda tasteless? Not in a bad way, mind you, it’s… kind of like eating ice in a way? You know how ice by itself doesn't really have a taste?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, “I still chew on ice to make up for the fact that I can’t eat ice cream.”

“Your dentist must hate you, then. But yeah, Kishin Egg Souls have more texture than anything else. Each one is different in some subtle way, but they’re usually pleasantly chewy – you can really work your jaws on them, but it’s not like chewing on gum or gristle,” he subconsciously cracked his jaw – he’d forgotten how he’d always looked forwards to eating Kishin Eggs, “It’s difficult to explain, since actually describing it makes it sound disgusting, but it’s one of those things you have to experience to get.”

“Like the joys of eating _really_ spicy food?” Luz ventured.

“Yeah, exactly like that.”

“Okay. And my other questions?”

“Well, if we’re gonna talk about Soul Resonance, then first we have to talk about Soul Wavelength…”

* * *

“The Soul Wavelength is, in the most basic terms possible, the heartbeat of the Soul. Its Frequency and Amplitude is different for every person and creature, and is determined by a number of factors,” Professor Von Nonameheim droned, his voice dry, mechanical, and stuffy in a way that British documentary narrators could only dream of imitating.

On the wall, two separate projectors displayed a long sprawl of notes so dense and clinical that it hurt the eyes to even look at them, and beside them a basic Y graph displaying a number of arcing lines rising and dipping back and forth over a straight line in the center; every time the line dipped down across the line, it was marked with a harsh black dot, with the word “FREQUENCY” written at the top of the graph.

“To clear up the confusion early, the power and strength of a Soul Wavelength is _not_ determined by its Frequency. Rather, the Frequency of a Soul Wavelength determines the compatibility between Souls, and in turn is determined primarily by personality; a more active, excitable and outgoing personality will produce a higher Soul Wavelength Frequency, whereas a less active, reclusive and introverted personality will produce a lower Soul Wavelength Frequency. That being said, the Soul can exert a certain amount of control over its Soul Wavelength Frequency, allowing one to be at least somewhat flexible in regards to their compatibility.

“The other determining factors for Soul Wavelength Frequency are mental, emotional, and physical status; under great mental or emotional duress, the Soul Wavelength’s Frequency will become unstable. Its rhythm will be rendered uneven, which in turn will interfere with Soul Resonance, which we will cover later in this lecture. Likewise, the ability to actually use the Soul Wavelength is as much a physical ability as any other activity; much like how if one maintains a sprint for too long, they will not be able to continue running, the same holds for the channelling of the Soul Wavelength. The Soul _can_ , in fact, become exhausted.”

He pushed his glasses up his nose, clicking the slide so the notes continued on, “On its own, the Soul Wavelength of a given individual can be channelled by its user in a wide variety of ways. It can be used to empower the body far beyond its conventional limits, including strength, durability, perception speed and both mental and physical alacrity, but it can also be used to directly channel a pulse from one’s Soul directly into an object through physical contact, thus greatly empowering physical blows, just as a couple of examples. It can even be used to perceive other Souls by enhancing the senses. But most notably, it can be used to perform the technique known as Soul Resonance.”

The entire class was holding back a collective groan as the professor continued to drone on. The only person who seemed to be paying any amount of attention was Maka, who was in the process of taking down entirely new notes for reference; beside her, Soul was leaning back in his seat, staring up at the ceiling, hoping the stucco would give him something more interesting to contemplate than the stuffy voice of the substitute teacher.

“I can’t believe we’re stuck in the remedial class,” Soul groaned, pushing himself so far back in his seat his head was clonking against the wall, “We already know this garbage, Maka.”

“It’ll only be for a few days,” she assured, only barely listening to Von Nonameheim for the sake of confirmation, “Just hang tight, we’ll be out of here before you know it.”

“This is _so_ uncool,” he pulled his headband down over his eyes, “Blair was right, this was _not_ worth getting up at six for…”

Maka found herself suppressing the urge to crack Soul upside the head, but by the same token, she had to admit he was right; so far, she was finding that all of her old notes applied perfectly well to the review that was occurring and was mostly jotting down new ones for the sake of reinforcing her memory than for the purposes of reference…

… as well as just giving herself something to do; this man was so dry she was convinced that he would turn the ocean into a desert if thrown off of a seaside dock.

If anything, that was the main purpose of these new notes; to keep the professor’s barely interested lecturing from driving her to the same bored tears that were currently being shed by her Weapon.

“The act known as Soul Resonance is the interaction between two or more Souls, typically that of a Weapon and Meister,” Von Nonameheim continued, once again changing the slides; a similar graph to the one before now appeared, but rather than marking the Frequency, it was now measuring the actual length of each peak and trough of the curved line as it passed back and forth over the center, with the word “AMPLITUDE” acting as the label.

“When two Souls engage in Soul Resonance, they combine their Soul Wavelengths into one, greatly increasing their Soul Wavelength Amplitude; unlike Soul Wavelength Frequency, Soul Wavelength Amplitude _is_ determined by the strength of the Soul, and in turn is a measure of how greatly one can use it to affect themselves or the world around them.”

“Here’s a drinking game for you, Maka,” Soul whispered, “Take a shot every time he says “Soul Wavelength.””

“That’s his job, Soul,” she muttered dryly, writing out the notes.

‘Soul Wavelength Frequency –Determines Soul Compatibility.

‘Soul Wavelength Amplitude – Determined by Soul Strength.

‘Soul Resonance – Compatible Souls Interact to Increase Soul Strength.’

 _‘I just summed up in twenty one words what took this professor well over three hundred to explain,’_ Maka ground her teeth, then let out a calming breath.

“… besides,” she quipped, “That would destroy your liver in the first ten minutes.”

At this, Soul jerked up slightly, tilting his head up towards her and slightly lifting his headband; he managed to catch the slight smile on her lips, though she did not turn her head to look at him.

He chuckled ruefully, “Oh, God, this _must_ be bad if you’re starting to snark about someone other than me or your idiot dad. We gotta get you out of here.”

“We can’t skip, Soul,” she stated, “We’re not exactly in a position where either of us can be playing hooky. We need every single A we can get.”

“I’ll happily take a zero if it means escaping this torture,” he let his headband snap back into place, sitting up and digging through his desk, “Didn’t that hack fanfic writer from the Renaissance include something like this in his description of Hell?”

“No, Dante’s Inferno does not include a lecture like this.”

“It _should._ At least being set on fire is somewhat entertaining.”

This time, Maka did not offer a response. She simply kept writing, despite being fairly certain that the teacher’s current tangent was one that could easily be missed.

“Specifically regarding Weapons and Meisters, the interaction of their Souls greatly empowers the capabilities of both parties. Even during a Basic Resonance, wherein the Souls are only passively interacting with one another by virtue of the Weapon and Meister being in physical contact, the Meister finds their physical capabilities and control greatly bolstered just by wielding their Weapon, becoming capable of feats and techniques they would not otherwise be capable of performing even without consciously using their Soul Wavelength. Likewise, the Weapon is bolstered by being wielded by a Meister – blades become capable of slicing through stone and steel, bullets can bore through armour plating with relative ease, and fire can melt down even the most heat resistant ceramics with minimal difficulty.”

‘Basic Resonance – Physical Contact with Compatible Weapon/Meister,’ Maka wrote, ‘Passively Boosts Physical Capabilities of Both Parties.’

“… Maka.”

“What is it, Soul?”

Abruptly, Soul shoved the heavy textbook in front of her, opened to the introductory pages of the course; he pointed to the page.

“He’s quoting from the textbook. Almost word for word.”

She blinked, following the passage as she listened to the professor; after a moment, she blanched.

“Oh my God,” she bemoaned, her eyes wide and mouth agape in abject horror, not so much setting her pen down as she did drop it, “He _is._ ”

“… this has got to be _the_ single most uninspired teacher I have ever seen,” Soul grumbled, taking the textbook back and laying his head down on it like a pillow.

Maka buried her face in her hands, “This guy has _no_ idea what he’s doing…”

 _‘This is karma,’_ she decided, _‘I should have just gone to see Luz.’_

“Can’t believe I’m actually wishing for Professor Sid back,” Soul mumbled, “He might’ve been strict, but at least he could make a lesson interesting.”

Slowly, Maka pulled her hands away, a note of melancholy entering her words, “… that’s right. That’s who this guy is subbing for, isn’t he?”

Soul gave a slight bob of his head, “Yeah. Did you hear what happened?”

“I heard he was found dead after school on Friday,” she began, “But nothing specific.”

“Apparently someone jammed a model of the Statue of Liberty through his forehead. Put the base right through his skull,” Soul mused, “Perfectly circle shaped hole, or at least that’s what I’ve heard.”

Maka opened her mouth to respond, only for the classroom door to abruptly swing open, cutting her off; the woman that stepped in made her heart plummet and the room go silent.

Mira Naigus. The former weapon partner of the late Sid Barret.

Her blue eyes were frigid, piercing as she surveyed the room, her deep brown hair tied back and her dark skin free of its usual bandages, giving the world a rare look at her face; lips pulled thin and brows furrowed, the usually unflappable woman was tense, almost angry, a far cry from the calm and composed air she usually projected.

When her eyes finally landed on Maka and Soul, she stopped, and the Meister felt her blood run cold.

“Scythe Meister Maka Albarn, and Demon Weapon Soul Eater,” she called, voice tightly controlled, if slightly stilted.

Immediately, Maka stood, hands at her sides, Soul wordlessly picking himself up in turn.

“Yes, Miss Naigus?”

“Lord Death has requested your presence,” Naigus announced, “You are to report to the Death Room immediately.”

“I-Immediately?” Maka asked.

“Yes. You are excused from all classes until further notice,” the Knife Weapon gestured to the hallway, “Now, go.”

“… I’m not complaining,” Soul started towards the door, hands in his pockets, “Come on, Maka.”

Grabbing her notes, Maka silently followed, sparing Naigus a glance as she passed; the sheer menace pouring off of the woman was overwhelming. She’d known it couldn’t have been easy for anyone to lose a partner, but Maka had expected Naigus to be in mourning.

This… anger…

“… so what do you think Lord Death wants?”

Maka jolted as Soul’s voice pulled her away from her train of thought; she shook her head, bringing her hand to her chin, “I dunno. I thought we were keeping up a good pace in our remedial lessons. We just need a mission that we’re ready for to actually come up and we can start collecting Souls again.”

“Hm…”

“… it’s strange to me, now that I stop to think about it.”

“What, Lord Death calling us?”

“Well, yeah, but I was actually talking about Sid,” Maka bit at her lip, mind starting to race, “Think, Soul. Professor Sid was a Three Star Meister; even a Two Star Meister is significantly stronger than a One Star Meister, and the same system applies to Weapons. Since Miss Naigus is still here and unharmed, we can guess that Sid didn’t have her with him when he was attacked.”

“Yeah?”

“But even so, a Three Star Meister shouldn’t have been beaten so… soundly as what you described. They’re masters of combat, able to handle nearly any situation with or without a Weapon partner,” she pointed out, picking up her pace to walk beside Soul rather than behind him, “If Sid really was murdered – if he was killed by someone who’s able to beat a Three Star Meister like that – don’t you think it would make sense to pull everyone out of school and look for the killer? One Star Meisters and Weapons wouldn’t be able to handle an opponent that strong…”

“… now that you mention it, that’s a good point,” Soul’s jaw set as he started up the stairs, beginning the ascent to the higher levels of the Academy, “Pulling everyone out to let the teachers handle things seems like it would be the smarter play… and yet here we all are treating it like it’s just another day at the office…”

“… Soul?... I’m worried.”

“… let’s just see what Lord Death wants, Maka. Maybe he can clear things up for us.”

A nod from the Meister, and the two continued making their way up to the Death Room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna need a little more time before I can get to the Boiling Isles. In the meantime, I think you Soul Eater fans know what's coming next.
> 
> Thanks for giving this a read, everyone, and thank you so much for your patience and understanding with me. Let me know what you think! I hope you all enjoyed the fourth chapter of Owls and Souls, Witches and Resonance!


	5. Remedial Lessons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Soul Eater or Owl House.
> 
> Those belongs to Gilgamesh, King of Heroes... oh, shit, wait, wrong seriesOHFUCK-

The door swung open with no resistance under Maka’s hand; something that surprised Soul, despite the fact that he knew very well that they had been summoned to the Death Room.

Normally, the Death Room’s black, red and white trimmed door was one that was barred to students; anyone caught lingering in front of it without good reason was usually subject to some sort of detention. There were exceptions, of course – there always were to this sort of thing – but under normal circumstances, the only ones allowed into the Death Room were Death Scythes, and the Grim Reaper himself. Even faculty were only allowed entry if they were specifically summoned by Lord Death, or if they had some sort of grievance to voice.

Or at least, that was the gist of the rules that he could be bothered to remember.

“You ready, Maka?”

“It’s just a chat with Lord Death,” she assured, though he guessed it was more for herself than for him, “Nothing more than that.”

“Then let’s go.”

With that, they stepped through the threshold.

It was always jarring, entering the Death Room; being the highest room in the DWMA, in the tallest spire the Academy had to offer, one would think it would be a fairly small room, albeit one filled with all sorts of oddities collected by the Grim Reaper over his many centuries of life.

But this could not be further from the truth.

The Death Room, in truth, was gargantuan.

Twisted clouds floated lazily across the clear sky overhead, the blue so vibrant that it actually stung the eyes; the earth beneath their feet was much the same, the sand so bright it almost looked more like snow. The gigantic red Torii gates that stood over the stone paths each upheld a gigantic guillotine blade, each razor sharp and glinting the light despite no sun being present. In the distance, innumerable crosses stuck up from the earth like thin dead trees or black lightning strikes that rose from the ground, their purpose unknown.

It even perfectly replicated the unbearable heat of the Nevada deserts surrounding Death City.

The only things that marked that this was indeed a room than a vast open plane were the distant windows.

“… I can never figure it out,” Soul mused.

“Hm?”

“What exactly this is,” he raised his hands, folding them behind his head, “It’s way too big to fit into the DWMA, so that door has to be some kind of portal.”

“Well, it’s the Death _Room,_ ” Maka kept her eyes fixed on the clouds overhead, frowning, “That implies that this isn’t an infinite space, or at least that it’s got some sort of walls and ceiling. Plus, it’s got windows. Maybe it’s some kind of pocket dimension?”

“Either way, it makes you wonder how he managed it. No way is science far enough along to pull something like this off.”

Maka raised an eyebrow, “What, you think Lord Death is secretly a spellcaster?”

“Well, he’s a Reaper, isn’t he?” Soul glanced at her, “I’d say that being an embodiment of Death, he’s exempt from the laws of physics in more than a couple ways. I mean, the guy literally lives inside a mirror, and uses anything with a reflective surface as his personal cell phone.”

“Hm…” Maka folded her hands behind her back, lips pursed in thought as they proceeded through the Torii gates, “… maybe it’s a physical representation of his Soul?”

“Maybe,” Soul shrugged, “Doubt we’ll get a straight answer if we ask, though.”

Maka sighed, defeated, “You’re probably right. He really does like to play up that mysterious old headmaster angle, huh?”

“Hey, he likes to keep some stuff private. I’m not exactly shouting all _my_ secrets from the rooftops, why should he?”

“Fair point.”

For a long few moments, neither spoke.

“ASSASSIN’S RULE NUMBER ONE! DISSOLVE IN THE DARKNESS AND ERASE YOUR BREATH! WAIT FOR AN OPENING TO ATTACK YOUR TARGET!”

They stopped, turning and staring up at the guillotine gate behind them; Maka let out a groan, “I do not need this today…”

Perched atop the crimson wood, a boy with wild blue hair glared down with a vicious grin, his arms outstretched, clasping a kusarigama in each hand, connected together by a chain; his white pants, black top and dark shoes edged with studded metal.

They didn’t need to see the star shaped tattoo on his shoulder to know who it was.

“Don’t bother, Black Star,” the nonchalance in Maka’s voice immediately disarmed any sort of imposing air the boy had hoped to cultivate.

Black Star let out a choked gasp, his grin jarring itself into a grimace, as if genuinely shocked he’d been spotted.

“You may as well just come down,” Soul smirked, “You’ve already given yourself away. Again.”

Black Star did not answer, his brow twitching as he audibly struggled to come up with some sort of response. The scythe in his right had began to glow, then transform, a head of long black hair tied back save for the bangs that framed her pale face and hung over her forehead. She gave a demure smile, “Well, they spotted us pretty easily… as usual…”

“Well, it can’t be helped!” he suddenly declared, grinning broadly, “It’s impossible to hide when you’re as big a star as I am!”

He jumped, releasing his Weapon as she transformed; as the pair landed, Tsubaki gave Maka and Soul an apologetic smile, her eyes as dark a blue as the sea. Her long beige dress was held in place by the same studded metal belts that Black Star had, wrapped around her waist, and a black scarf was tied in place around her neck.

It always caught Soul off guard, just how tall Tsubaki actually was – he didn’t think of himself as particularly short for his age, but the Dark Arm Weapon towered over all three of them. If one didn’t count his hair, Black Star only came up to her chin.

“Oh well,” Black Star continued, his grin never fading, “I think that’s a disadvantage I can handle!”

“Idiot,” Soul’s own smile broadened as he stepped forwards, extending a hand, “You’re just _not_ cut out for this whole assassin gig.”

Black Star responded in kind, the two clasping hands, “Hey! ‘S not _my_ fault the whole world can see my greatness from miles away! People need to update their definition of assassin!”

“Is _that_ why you study the Assassin’s Rules so closely, only to flub them so hard?” Maka asked, eyes half lidded as she crossed her arms.

Black Star’s eyes narrowed, releasing Soul’s hand, “That’s the only way my opponents stand a chance, Maka. It’s only fair I give them a chance to run.”

“And that’s why you still haven’t collected a single Soul.”

“I’m sorry,” Black Star cupped his ear, angling it towards the Scythe Meister, “Who was it that reached ninety nine Souls, only to screw it up and have to start over?”

“Soul and I started over _deliberately,_ Black Star,” she huffed.

“Oh, really?”

Maka felt a smug smile spread across her face as she opened her mouth to speak-

But before a word could leave her mouth, Soul stepped between them, hands in his pockets, but stance and expression stern.

“That’s enough, you two,” he warned, “Seriously, we don’t need a verbal spar right now.”

Black Star snorted, but stepped back, eyes closed with a smirk on his face, “Eh, you’re right. No need to waste my effort on someone as small as Maka. That’s just not a match worth my time.”

“Keep talking,” she retorted, “At the rate things are going, we’ll hit ninety nine Souls _again_ before you even get _one._ ”

“You two need the head start,” the Dark Arm Meister declared, “Tsubaki and I’ll get all our Souls in one mission, you’ll see!”

“I’d say at this point it’s less a head start and more a victory lap,” Maka mused.

“What did I _just_ say?” Soul asked, his tone growing irritated as he glowered at the two Meisters.

“… alright, fine,” Maka looked away, lips drawn in a thin line, “I’ll drop it.”

“Heh. Good to know you can see when you’re outmatched,” Black Star bared his teeth in another grin, “Come on, Tsubaki!”

“R-Right,” she stammered, giving another apologetic bow before following Black Star further into the Death Room.

Soul let out a long, slow breath as he watched their backs before returning his attention to his partner; Maka’s hands were clenched, her jaw tightening, clearly struggling to not unload another round of snark at the other Meister.

After a moment, he reached out, his hand clapping down on her shoulder; she jumped, snapping out of her frustrated haze, staring at Soul with her deep green eyes.

“Come on,” the Scythe smiled, “You know he’s not worth it.”

“… I know,” she sighed, “He’s just… so _infuriating._ ”

“You win basically every time this happens,” Soul noted, “You have a bigger verbal dictionary, and you’re usually _right._ ”

“And _he_ never cops to it,” Maka uncrossed and recrossed her arms, biting at her lip, “I feel _so_ bad for Tsubaki…”

“Hey, he’s not _that_ bad,” he finally pulled his hand away, “He’s self centered, sure, but do you honestly think Tsubaki would stick around if he were actually that terrible of a partner?”

“That’s a hard question to answer, honestly.”

“Trust me, if Black Star were really that awful, she’d have ditched a long time ago,” Soul said. Then he gave a lazy grin, “Besides, you’re just mad he got the last word again.”

“Ugh,” Maka shook her head, “He just doesn’t give… getting the last word with him is impossible.”

“So why try when it isn’t worth it?” he asked, “Every time you rise to his bait, he wins.”

“It’s easier to think that than it is to actually act on it,” she grumbled.

“Let him have the petty victory. You’re the one who usually wins in the end,” With that, Soul started forwards, posture hunched and hands in his pockets once more, “Come on, let’s go.”

“… right,” Maka agreed, a small smile crossing her own features as she fell into step beside her Weapon.

* * *

The bookstore was largely silent as Luz perused the shelves of fantasy and manga, looking for something to catch her interest. A new series, a game manual, a game artbook – anything at all, really, would do.

But she couldn’t seem to get anything at all to hold her interest for more than a minute; she found her mind wandering almost constantly, even more than she usually did, and she just couldn’t bring herself to focus on anything other than her own internal fantasies.

Those, and her Soul Wavelength.

She’d jotted down the basic overview of Soul Wavelength and its basic concepts – Frequency, Amplitude, and Resonance. She had a rough understanding each of them – or at least, Luz thought she did – but she knew that she couldn’t get a thorough grip of them from just an hour spent chatting with Papi.

There were nuances to Soul Wavelength that he must have skipped in order to make it easier to grasp. And while she was grateful for the simplification, Luz wanted to _know_ how it all worked. When they’d come to the Index after finishing their lunch, Luz had done what she never thought she would ever do, and made an immediate beeline for the textbooks.

There were entire _schools_ surrounding the use of Soul Wavelengths; there had to be _something_ regarding it available to the public.

And yet, to her incredible confusion and more than slightly mild disappointment, Luz had found nothing.

“You’d think,” she muttered under her breath, barely paying attention to the titles as she perused the shelves, “I’d be able to find at least _one_ textbook by typing it into the computer…”

“Sorry, Luz,” Dad leaned back against a nearby shelf, “But it’s just not that simple. All of those textbooks are actually restricted to official DWMA campuses; you can’t get ahold of them if you aren’t in the actual system.”

“ _¿_ _Seriamente?_ ” she whined, turning her brown eyes upon him.

“ _Seriamente_.”

“... please tell me there’s at least a good reason for it,” she all but begged.

He shrugged, “The Soul Wavelength is a fairly dangerous thing to just hand out to the general public. Knowing how to use it basically gives you some form of super powers, and just like how not everyone is responsible enough to own and use weapons, not everyone is responsible enough to have access to and use their Soul Wavelength – which is part of why the DWMA exists in the first place.”

“To teach people not just how to use the Soul Wavelength, but the responsibilities entailed in knowing how to use it?” she guessed.

“Bingo. It’s just like learning how to use any sort of weapon or martial art, Luz; there’s a lot of responsibilities that you have to take into account. If you don’t, you run the very real risk of getting people hurt,” he gave her a smile, “Plus, a lot of these things sink in a lot better when you actually have a teacher on hand to show you how it works and explain in detail. You could certainly learn from the textbooks, but they probably wouldn’t be able to give you quite the same understanding of both how it all works, and the ramifications involved as an actual mentor, you know?”

“Yeah,” Luz sighed, once again turning to the bookshelves, “That makes sense… I just… really wanna learn.”

Papi’s hand gently clapped down on her shoulder, “I know, kiddo. I know.”

She managed a smile, before returning to perusing the books.

Eventually, her eyes snapped to one particular book.

The Good Witch Azura.

Luz felt her heart lift a little more upon seeing the familiar bronzed skin and sky blue hair of the white robed Witch; the first novel was also one of the first books that she’d ever truly read through cover-to-cover that wasn’t strictly a picture book. Ever since, Luz had kept close track of the series, and they had always wound up being either a Christmas or birthday present every time the new one came out. Dad had even pre-ordered the fifth book for her for Christmas last year, and when she’d finally gotten it a few months later, she hadn’t been able to even think of anything else, reading it every chance she got – even going so far as to hide it beneath her desk when she should have been doing classwork.

“… you really do love that series, huh?”

“Yeah,” Luz agreed heartily, “I _do._ ”

“The author sure was brave, making her main character a Witch,” Dad stated, pulling the book out and staring at the cover, “Ooooh, special edition hardcover.”

Luz snickered, “I’ll wait until the whole series is out, thanks.”

He raised an eyebrow with a smirk, “Gonna extort me for the full boxed set?”

She crossed her arms, matching his smirk with one of her own, “You and I both know I don’t have to do _any_ such thing.”

“Heh. Touché,” he slid the book back into its place on the shelf.

Slowly, her expression grew more thoughtful as she stared at the title; her smile faded, and she felt a question she had always been yearning to ask well up in her stomach before she could stop it, "… hey, Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“… you really think there’s no such thing as a Good Witch?”

The Death Scythe let out a low hum, lips pursed and eyes narrowed in thought, “You really are asking all the hard questions today, aren’t you?”

“Well…” she shrugged helplessly, “Call me an optimist. But I can’t help but wonder if Witches just… have a bad rap, you know?”

“Not exactly a popular opinion.”

“… I know,” she conceded, “Mom tried to get me not to use the first novel for my book report because of that; Witches don’t exactly have a good reputation… but even so…”

“You don’t want to think of anyone as inherently evil,” Papi stated, more than guessed.

“… yeah. That’s it exactly.”

He silently bobbed his head, once again leaning back against the bookshelf, obviously still pondering his answer.

“… we weren’t really taught much about Witches in school beyond ‘they exist,’” Luz ventured, “I’m assuming there’s a reason for that, too? Like with Soul Wavelength?”

“There is,” Dad confirmed, his expression growing a tad more serious, “The world is still feeling the shockwaves from the impact Witches had and still have on it, Luz. On the one hand, it would make sense to tell people in depth about what Witches really are… but on the other, telling people about a threat they can neither see nor really do anything to fight…”

“… you really think people are that afraid? Don’t you think people would be braver than that?” she asked.

“Well, you know the line, Luz. What did K tell J?”

“‘A _person_ is smart,’” she rehearsed the quote as if she’d seen the movie yesterday, “‘ _People_ are stupid, panicky animals, and you know it.’”

Papi nodded, “And that’s exactly why Lord Death has decided to just let the subject be. It’s one thing to try and prepare people for something they can deal with – but Witches aren’t like natural disasters that can be overcome or pandemics that can be avoided or treated. They’re not something that can be dealt with by a normal person, just like those who have begun to transform into Kishin. The fear might get to people’s heads, and… well, I don’t wanna point fingers, but there’s a reason why everyone knows about what went down in Salem.”

She felt her brow crease, pursing her lips, scepticism dripping from her tone, “That still doesn’t seem like a very good solution. Especially since Salem’s Witch Trials were actually _started_ and _perpetuated_ by ignorance and superstition.”

“There are a lot of problems in the world that don’t have good solutions, Luz,” a smile crept back across his face, “Which is why the world needs people like you. We need people who keep looking for better solutions than the ones we have.”

It was like he always knew exactly what she needed to hear; a grin was crossing her face before even she realized it. She quickly put her patented Serious Face back on, though she couldn’t quite put the smile away entirely, “Thank you. But even so, don’t you think the deaths brought about by those trials could have been prevented if the people involved actually knew what to look for?”

The Death Scythe shook his head, ruefully, “I’m not convinced it would have stopped them. All the methods that allow one to actually _find_ a Witch are tied to being able to use Soul Wavelength, and even then, most of them were only invented relatively recently – as in, within the last one or two centuries. Plus, not everyone was so eager to trust Lord Death back then; people were, and still _are_ , afraid of the Grim Reaper, and honestly I’m not sure I blame them. So, they wanted to take matters into their own hands, even if there was no real way for them to do so.”

“… well, that _sucks,_ ” Luz crossed her arms, biting her lip.

“There is no real sure-fire way to find a Witch, Luz. No two Witches are the same, in terms of personality or magical ability. They’ve come up with all sorts of ways to hide and fight,” he turned his gaze to the ceiling, hands in his pockets, “As for your first question – is there such thing as a Good Witch?...”

He trailed off, leaving Luz to stew in the suspense.

“… I’ll be honest. I don’t actually know.”

She blinked, “… you don’t?”

“My first impulse is actually to say ‘no,’” he admitted, “But, I do have to acknowledge that as a Weapon and a Death Scythe for the DWMA, that impulse stems from a fairly strong bias; most of the Witches that the DWMA handles are ones that pose an actual threat to the world – Witches with a grudge against regular humans or against the DWMA itself, and act on it.

“All that being said, Lord Death has opted to leave certain Witches alone before… but in those cases they were either too weak or too young to really cause anyone any actual harm,” he shrugged once again, “It’s very difficult to find a Witch that isn’t actively making a nuisance of themselves. If there is a ‘Good’ Witch… it’s probably someone who’s settled down and shut themselves away from the world. Putting aside whatever grievances they had for something… more important, I guess.”

* * *

Abruptly, the pale, golden-eyed woman sneezed, causing her rickety stand to rattle. She pushed her silver hair out of her eyes, grumbling under her breath as she started the long, slow process of resetting all her knickknacks and junk.

“Dammit, I hate it when that happens… probably one of my exes…”

* * *

“Hmm…” Luz hummed, stuffing her hands in her pockets, “… it all sounds like it’s way more complicated than it has to be.”

“It probably is,” he conceded, still smiling, “But hey. Maybe you’ll be the one to actually find a Good Witch.”

Again, she found herself returning his smile with another grin. She opened her mouth, eager to continue-

Then a simple ringtone blared out.

Papi blinked, then dug in his pocket, pulling out his phone; his expression soured, and he hit the decline call button, and turned his gaze to Luz once more, “So, you find anything-”

As soon as he tried to ask, the phone went off again.

And again he declined the call.

“Did you find anything else, kiddo-?”

When the ringing went off again, Luz shifted closer, craning her neck to get a look at the name on the screen.

Sid Barret.

“Dammit, Sid,” Dad growled, this time jabbing the phone with his finger as he ended the call. He turned to Luz, “Sorry Luz. He _knows_ he shouldn’t be calling me right now-”

Again, the phone rang.

She could practically hear the glass cracking as her father gave her a painstaking smile, “… Luz. Can I take this?”

She shrugged, “‘S no biggie. Another teacher?”

“Yeah. Sid _knows_ I’m on vacation right now, so there’s really no reason he should be calling me.”

“Must be important then,” she gestured, “You can hang up after five minutes. I can find another book in that time.”

He nodded gratefully, then finally hit answer as Luz turned back to the shelves.

“Not a good time, Sid,” he said, tone low and warning; despite herself Luz couldn’t help but listen closely, straining her ears to catch the voice on the other end of the line.

She couldn’t quite make out the words, but the voice itself was deep and rough, but somehow pleasantly warm – strong, but gentle. Luz had to resist the urge to turn on her heel so she could listen more closely, instead fixing her eyes on the book directly in front of her.

“Just ‘Spirit,’ Sid,” he sighed, bringing a hand to his forehead and closing his eyes, “I’m off duty.”

He paused, listening for another moment as the voice responded.

“Kind of man you _are,_ you mean?” Dad smirked lightly; Luz turned back to him, eyes wide and curiosity piqued.

“And what’s that supposed to mean, exactly?” he asked, tone suspicious.

Abruptly, Dad’s eyes snapped open, his expression one of horror and shock as he stared straight ahead, completely forgetting the world around him, “Stein did _WHAT!?_ ”

The entire bookstore fell silent; Luz stuck her head out of the aisle, glancing about, and everyone in the store now seemed to be focused on the fantasy aisle, staring openly at her in a mix of bewilderment and concern. She gave a slight wave, chuckling weakly, “Sorry…”

She ducked back into the aisle, waving a hand in front of her father’s face and bringing a finger to her lips. He stared at her, bewildered, and slowly nodded, bringing a hand to his temple.

“… so you _asked_ him to do that?” after a moment, he took a deep breath through his nose, exhaling through his mouth, “Okay. May I ask _why?_ ”

He listened a little longer than before, the explanation evidently lengthy, then snorted, “You realize Naigus is going to kill you _both,_ right? And this time she’ll make sure you _stay_ dead?”

...

“Yeah, I know you’re partners, but trust me, been there, done that – there is nothing worse than having an angry partner, Sid, Weapon _or_ Meister."

...

“… alright. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Does Lord Death know about this?... he _sanctioned_ it?... you really do care about being honest, don’t you?"

...

“… yeah, yeah, I get it. Doesn’t mean I approve."

...

“Look, I’m with my daughter right now. Can this wait until I’m back at my hotel?... oh, you’re done?... okay. Take care of yourself, then, Sid,” he smirked, “At least long enough that I can see Naigus kick your ass when I get back... yeah, alright. Will do. See ya.”

With that, he ended the call, “Professor Sid says hi, Luz. I think you’d like each other; he’s a bit strict, but I don’t have any doubt you’d make him proud to be a teacher.”

She beamed… then tilted her head, curiosity once again getting the better of her, “ _¿Papi?_ ”

“Yes, Luz?”

“Who’s Stein?”

At this, the Death Scythe went rigid, the colour slowly draining from his face as he stared at his daughter. He opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again…

Then collapsed on his knees, raising his hands to the sides of his head, babbling incoherently under his breath.

Cautiously, Luz stepped away, poking her head out of the aisle once more, waving at the first staff member she saw.

“Um… can I get some help?” she called, pointing back at the figure of her father on the floor, who was now curled in the foetal position, “I think I broke my Dad…”

* * *

“Well, he knows,” the man grunted, blank eyes narrowing as he pocketed his phone.

“Hm.”

It was the only response he got from the figure typing at the computer, the dark rendering the screen absolutely blinding; the silhouette of the figure in the chair was a ghastly one, leaving the man to shudder, even if the relative cold of the room was no longer something that bothered him.

“… didn’t you have anything you wanted to say to him? It’s been a while since you two have been in the same room together.”

“No,” the voice was toneless, distracted, “I’ll have plenty of time to say everything I want to him soon enough. He _is_ my keeper, after all. Once I’m back, Spirit will be spending less time at Lord Death’s side and more time keeping me in check.”

“That’s the other thing I was wondering about,” the man grumbled, “Didn’t you want to tell him you’re coming back?”

“Nah.”

Slowly, the figure stood, stretching out his limbs; his joints clicked one by one, from his elbows, wrists, and even fingers, to the vertebrae in his neck, everything popping back into place with a loud crack.

He turned, the light of the screen catching his glasses and illuminating the stitches that wove across his face as he gave a lazy, mildly amused smile, “I wanna see the look on his face when he sees me again.”

The man shook his head, appalled, “You really are a sadistic man, you know that?”

“Believe me, I’m well aware,” the figure took out a lighter, lighting a cigarette, “You know your jobs over the next two weeks?”

“I do.”

“Then get to it. The students should be getting their extra lessons any minute now, and I’m eager to get to work.”

“Alright. With any luck, I’ll be seeing you soon, Professor Stein.”

“They don’t need luck. They need to show what they’re capable of.”

“Too true.”

With that, Sid Barret turned, and pushed through the door, his lips pulled back, baring his teeth in a permanent snarl.

* * *

A simple platform of cobblestone some odd hundred feet across raised the gilded mirror away from the sand; it stood over twelve feet tall, easily towering over both the Meisters and the Weapons, gilded with golden trim. A candlestick was attached to both the top and either side of the mirror, and though each bore a lit candle, the candles didn’t seem to melt or burn down even in the slightest, no matter how long one stood staring at the flickering flame.

The surface of the mirror itself was absolutely flawless, bearing no marks or even a sign that it was a mirror at all; were it not for the mirror’s frame, one could walk towards it and find themselves wondering if the reflection within was really just that, or if you were staring at a true doppelgänger.

“… so,” Soul started, glancing at Black Star, “Were you summoned by Lord Death too?”

“So what if we were?” the Meister rebuffed, folding his hands behind his head.

“Just curious,” Soul shrugged, “We got pulled out of class for this.”

“You too?” Tsubaki asked.

“Yeah. Not that I’m complaining, but… well, hard not to wonder why, is all.”

“Well, we won’t find out why until we call him.”

Soul watched as Maka stepped forwards, finger raised to touch the mirror; with speed that never ceased to astound, she traced out the numbers, “Forty two, forty two, five six four, whenever you want to knock on Death’s door.”

As it always did, the mirror darkened, the ringtone blaring out with an echo that reverberated throughout the Death Room.

“Hello? Lord Death?” Maka called, “Are you there?”

The dark gave way to the familiar, jagged figure of the Grim Reaper, his mask glancing back and forth across the students.

“ _Hello, hello!_ ” he acknowledged, “ _Thanks for coming! What’s up?_ ”

“Scythe Meister Maka, and Demon Weapon Soul Eater reporting in,” Maka stood at full attention, expression serious as possible.

“Yeah, and Dark Arm Meister Black Star, too,” Black Star put his hands on his hips.

“And Tsubaki Nakatsukasa, Magic Dark Arm Weapon,” Tsubaki followed in turn.

“So, what’s up?” Soul finally asked, “What did you want with us?”

“ _Well, let’s start one pair at a time,_ ” Death began, turning his gaze upon the Dark Arm Meister, “ _This actually has more to do with you two, Black Star, Tsubaki._ ”

“Is there something wrong, sir?” Tsubaki asked, eyes widening slightly.

“ _Well, unfortunately, as a matter of fact there is,_ ” he confirmed, “ _I have a little assignment for you to take on._ ”

“Assignment?” Black Star raised an eyebrow.

Death raised a hand, the eyes of his mask narrowing, “ _Some extra lessons._ ”

“E-Extra lessons!?” Tsubaki exclaimed, eyes going wide, “The ones meant for failing students!?”

“ _Correct, Tsubaki,_ ” Death nodded, “ _I trust that you are all aware of the purpose of the DWMA?_ ”

“Well, yeah,” Black Star’s eyes narrowed, “Our job is to gather Kishin Egg Souls. We protect the world by collecting the corrupted Souls of evil humans, and feeding them to our Weapons, in order to create a Death Scythe.”

“ _Absolutely correct, Black Star. But do you know how many Souls you have actually managed to collect since your enrolment?_ ” the Grim Reaper raised his hands, fingers and thumbs curled together to form perfect circles, “ _Exactly zero._ ”

This time, neither Black Star nor Tsubaki answered; the Weapon cast her eyes to the ground, hands clasped behind her back and lips drawn tight, eyes wide. Black Star, however, erupted into raucous laughter, eyes squeezed shut and mouth wide open-

Only for it to be immediately silenced as Death’s hand escaped the mirror, larger than a patio stone and every bit as hard, cracking the Dark Arm Meister directly in the forehead; Black Star fell to the floor, collapsed in a heap and silent as the grave, eyes spinning in their sockets.

“ _It isn’t something to laugh about, Chuckles,_ ” the headmaster chided, his hand still smoking from the force of the impact.

“Okay, but then why are _we_ here, Lord Death?” Maka asked.

“Yeah,” Soul concurred, “Didn’t you say that starting from scratch wasn’t gonna reflect on our grades?”

“ _I_ did _say that, and I meant it,_ ” the Reaper confirmed, glancing at the Scythe and Meister pair, “ _Hence why I said that this concerns Black Star and Tsubaki more than you two. For you, Soul and Maka, this assignment is optional, though I think it would be perfect to get you two back on track and test how far you’ve come._ ”

The pair glanced at each other, once again silently questioning each other.

“… I think at the very least, we can hear you out,” Maka declared, smiling.

“So what’cha got for us?” Soul inquired.

“ _Splendid!_ ” Death clapped his hands, waiting for Black Star to pull himself together and get back to his feet before continuing, “ _Now, Im sure that by now you have all heard about what happened to Professor Sid Barret?_ ”

Soul blinked, startled, “He was murdered last Friday, wasn’t he?”

“ _I’m afraid it’s a little more complex than that, Soul. You see, Sid_ was _murdered… but it seems he was also brought back to life._ ”

“… I’m sorry?” Maka asked, perplexed.

“ _After Sid’s murder, the Academy sealed off the room he was murdered in from the students and took his body into our hospital wing for an autopsy,_ ” the Reaper explained, “ _The strange thing was that there was very little sign of a struggle despite the fact that he was clearly attacked from the front, the statuette embedded in his skull._

“ _But soon afterwards, the body disappeared. Sid’s office and home were both thoroughly ransacked. And a number of reports have come in from DWMA students that detail some rather alarming sightings over the past few days. Sightings detailing a figure that bears more than a passing resemblance to Sid, following or even outright attacking them. If these sightings are accurate, then it would appear that whoever killed Sid was not content to let him rest in peace – if I had to wager a guess, Sid Barret has been revived as a zombie._ ”

“… who would _do_ something like that?” Tsubaki asked, eyes wide in abject horror.

“ _That, I do now know, Tsubaki,_ ” Death confessed, “ _It is at the very least evident that whoever did this knows what they are doing. There are not many people who can get into the DWMA undetected, or so effortlessly defeat a Three Star Meister like Sid – much less_ both.”

“So what does this have to do with any of us?” Maka asked, “And moreover, why is school still in session if someone that dangerous is running around? Shouldn’t everyone be staying home until this guy is caught?”

“ _Not necessarily, Maka,_ ” Death shook his head, “ _Though your concerns are valid and your instincts sharp, asking everyone to stay home is not necessarily the safest available option in this scenario, for a number of reasons; whoever did this made sure they stayed out of sight and avoided causing a large commotion. A large number of students moving to and fro through the campus will likely discourage the killer from making any overt moves, at least during the day. Moreover, it will be easier to keep track of the students if their attendance is marked in class each day – if they were to remain at home, regular checks would be necessary, and the Academy would not be able to react as readily if students were to go missing._ ”

“… he makes a solid point,” Soul whistled, “You got a better handle on things than I gave you credit for, old man.”

“ _My first priority is_ always _the safety of my students, Soul Eater,_ ” Death reminded, “ _If it weren’t, I wouldn’t be much of a headmaster at all, now would I?_ ”

The Scythe spared a glance for his Meister, watching as her shoulders fell slightly, her features slowly relaxing; he smirked, letting his head tilt and his headband cover his eyes.

“But what about Sid?” Tsubaki pressed, “You can’t honestly expect us to take on a Three Star Meister and win! Even without Naigus!”

“ _Under normal circumstances, no,_ ” the Reaper held his hands up, displaying the image of a wavering blue Soul, “ _But these are not normal circumstances. If our assumption is correct and Sid has been revived as a zombie, his Soul should still be weak from having died once already. If we wait too long, he will regain his full strength, and it will be much more difficult to put him down... but if you can find him before that happens, I am confident that you will be able to defeat him. From there, you should be able to find whoever killed him, and why._ ”

“Sounds easy enough!” Black Star shouted, “You can count on me, sir! So we just gotta eliminate these guys?”

“ _Not quite. Your mission is find Sid, defeat him, and through him track down his killer; from there, Three Star Weapons and Meisters will work to apprehend them._ ”

“Pff. Lame,” he closed his eyes, crossing his arms, “I bet I could take on this creep no problem! I don’t need help from anybody!”

“ _On that matter, I’m afraid we will have to agree to disagree, Black Star._ ”

Even Black Star had to blink at the grave tone in the Reaper’s voice; he looked from the Meister, to the Dark Arm, the mask hiding any emotion that might have crossed the headmaster’s face.

“ _There is a reason that, for Maka and Soul, this extra lesson is optional. For you two, Black Star and Tsubaki, this extra lesson is mandatory. And I’m sure you both already know why._ ”

“… sir?” Tsubaki’s voice wavered, “You mean…”

“ _The both of you are incredibly skilled as DWMA students go, especially considering your age. However, the fact that neither of you have successfully collected a single Kishin Egg Soul despite being enrolled as students for over a year has me_ very _concerned._ ”

“Really? That’s it?” Black Star cackled, “That’s what this is about? If I really wanted to, I could collect all those Souls at once! I could make Tsubaki a Death Scythe in a day if I wanted to!”

“ _But that’s just the problem, now, isn’t it?_ ” Death asked, “ _It certainly seems like you_ don’t _want to._ ”

The blue haired boy’s eyes narrowed, his smile wavering, “What was that?”

“ _Black Star, no one disputes that you are one of the strongest Meisters in your year at the Academy. Possibly in the Academy in general. But you refuse to use your strength or skill seriously,_ ” the chiding tone of Death’s voice allowed for no arguments, “ _Instead, you spend all your time on missions showboating and grandstanding. For all your bluster about being a great assassin and warrior, you have let your quarry escape every single time you have gone out on collection over the past year, forcing other Weapon and Meister pairs to pick up your slack. This, frankly, is unacceptable behaviour for a Meister of your calibre._ ”

At this point, Black Star’s smile had completely faded, replaced by an expression of grim determination. His fists clenched, jaw tightening, “So that’s it? I’m being punished for being too big a man for any of the missions you give me?”

“ _I would hardly call your behaviour that of a ‘big man.’ Especially considering the fact that your teachers are all at the end of their ropes with you._ ”

“Hey! It’s not _my_ fault they’re too scared of how big I am compared to them!” Black Star jabbed his thumb into his chest, grinning, “I wouldn’t want to live in my own shadow either-”

“ _And_ that,” Death interrupted, “ _is_ exactly _what I am talking about. You excel in every physical test, but every field operation you are sent on ends in failure, and you refuse to learn from it. You don’t seem to realize that in refusing to change your strategy or even your behaviour, you also refuse to make any sort of forward progress. A certain amount of pride can be healthy, Black Star, but you are letting your ego control your every action; how do you expect to make Tsubaki into a Death Scythe when you can’t even complete the collection of a single Kishin Egg Soul?_ ”

Black Star snorted, giving the headmaster a thumbs up, “With incredible flair and innate greatness!”

With all the speed of a bullwhip, the Reaper Chop once again came crashing down on Black Star’s forehead; he stumbled back in a daze, clutching his head with a pained groan before falling to the ground, staring up at the ceiling with his eyes spinning in their sockets.

“Whoa, slow down there, old man,” Soul crouched over Black Star’s fallen body squinting at the Meister’s pupils, “Black Star doesn’t have a lot of brain cells to work with as it is. I don’t think hitting him over the head is gonna help him learn humility.”

“ _I suppose you have a point there,_ ” slowly, the great brick the Reaper called a hand retracted, “ _But even_ I’m _getting frustrated with his antics; I’ve seen a lot of students come and go, but only a select few were ever as proud as Black Star._ ”

“… none of them… were ever… as big… as me,” Black Star managed, once again raising his hand, thumb pointed towards the sky.

“Dude, he’s gonna crack your skull open at this rate,” Soul deadpanned, gripping him by the shoulders and carefully hauling the Dark Arm Meister to his feet, “Just keep your mouth shut until we’re out of here, will ya?”

“No… promises,” Black Star slurred, eyes following unseen images, “Especially… with all the other… Black Stars… cheering me on…”

“You really are hopeless,” Maka sighed, bringing a hand to her forehead.

“… um… sir, if I may,” Tsubaki raised a hand, getting the Reaper’s attention, “I know Black Star is… unorthodox as Meisters go, but he’s always been an excellent partner to me. I know that if we were to really try, we could really do some big things as Meister and Weapon.”

She turned to her partner, giving him a gentle smile, even as he gradually returned to reality, “Please. Don’t be so harsh on him. He really is the best partner I could have asked for.”

“ _… unfortunately, Tsubaki, this is where I must level some criticism at you, as well,_ ” Death spoke, almost mournfully, as if he didn’t want to begin this next lecture.

“… what do you mean?” she asked, tone apprehensive.

“ _You are an excellent student, Tsubaki. You excel in every physical test, much like Black Star does, and your tests and written classwork are impeccable,_ ” he cast a significant glance to Black Star as the boy slowly came back down to earth, “ _But Black Star is not the only limiting factor in regards to your shared performance in the field. I appreciate the amount of patience you have had with him – I doubt there are any other Weapons in the Academy who could realistically work with Black Star – but there should be a limit to the patience you are willing to offer him._ ”

“I’m… not sure I understand,” she admitted.

“ _You are quick to defend him in regards to his performance and behaviour, despite the impact he has had on your own performance. You are content to let him lead in every mission, opting to merely advise him rather than attempt to help make decisions. Oftentimes you are content to let your opinion go unheard for the purpose of keeping your partner happy._ ”

He turned to the other Weapon and Meister pair, “ _Take a look at Maka and Soul. They are not perfect partners by any means – no teens ever are,_ ” he quickly added, seeing Soul frown deeply and Maka bristle with indignant rage, “ _But Maka’s bookish, studious nature and Soul’s laid back attitude bring each other into balance. They have the capacity to act independently of each other when the situation calls for it, but by and large, they make their decisions together. They are honest with each other, and neither one attempts to, or allows the other to dominate their relationship._

“ _By comparison, you allow Black Star to do as he pleases, regardless of the situation at hand. Rather than acting as a healthily restraining influence on him, you have been_ enabling _his ego, allowing it to run rampant despite the damage it is doing to the both of you. Put simply, Tsubaki, Maka and Soul are partners; by comparison, your relationship with Black Star is more akin to that of an advisor and a King. You constantly offer him advice, but you act as if the decision ultimately falls to him, and your voice holds no real weight. I think you know as well as I do that_ isn’t _how a partner is supposed to behave._ ”

“… I…” Tsubaki shifted from foot to foot, hands wringing behind her back as she squirmed in place; her eyes were wide and downcast, her jaw working anxiously as she bit at her lip, struggling to find the words…

All the while, Maka and Soul looked on, equally solemn.

“… hey, Death.”

Once again, all eyes were on Black Star. His fists clenched and unclenched restlessly, as if seeking some weapon. His eyes had shifted in colour, from a deep sea green to a sky blue, brows furrowed and jaw set.

“… throw all the shade you want at me. I’m a big man. I can take it,” he hissed, “But don’t you _dare_ say Tsubaki isn’t good enough to be my partner. She’s my _co-star_ , damn it; she’s the one I’m gonna make into a Death Scythe.”

The two stared each other down, as if waiting for the other to flinch; as usual, Death’s mask remained impassive, betraying no emotion, while the rest of the room stared in shock at Black Star and his cold, almost quiet anger. A furious Black Star was certainly no surprise… but a Black Star that exhibited that anger with anything other than furious shouting and collateral damage?

It was uncanny. Frightening, even. Maka had taken a step back, aghast at the boy she had previously been trading jabs with; Soul studied him closely, uncertain, but ready to step in if needed.

The only person who dared to step towards him was Tsubaki herself.

Wordlessly, she placed a hand on his shoulder, a gentle smile on her lips as he glanced up at her; a second passed, with only a flicker of change on their faces signalling the silent exchange.

Slowly, Black Star’s body relaxed, a low breath escaping his lungs. His eyes fell closed, and when they opened once more, they had returned to their normal dark green.

“ _Have you calmed down now, Black Star?_ ” the headmaster inquired.

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, “It’s not worth getting angry over an insult. I’m bigger than that.”

“ _Good. Because I unfortunately have one last piece of bad news,_ ” Death raised a hand once more, turning his attention to both the Meister and the Magic Dark Arm, “ _Black Star, Tsubaki. If you fail this lesson, you are both going to be removed from the Weapon and Meister program. This is your last chance to prove that you can perform well both as partners, and as a Weapon and Meister in general. Do you understand?_ ”

Finally, Black Star’s smile returned, “What, is that supposed to scare us? If you want to scare a guy as big as me, you’re gonna have to try a Hell of a lot harder than that, Grim Reaper.”

“Black Star and I are ready for this, Lord Death,” Tsubaki assured, tone and expression both resolute, “I promise, we won’t fail this time. We won’t waste this last chance.”

“ _… I’m glad to see you both so confident,_ ” the Reaper stated sincerely, “ _Just don’t let it get to your heads._

“ _And you, Maka, Soul? Do you accept this mission as well?_ ”

“Of course,” Maka nodded.

“You really need to ask?” Soul chuckled.

“ _Very well. Then I will outline your parameters,_ ” the Reaper held up two fingers, “ _We estimate that Sid will have returned to full strength in two weeks’ time; thus, you have two weeks to complete your assignment. You are excused from all regular classes for the duration – I want you to focus all of your efforts on defeating Sid and tracking down his killer. I recommend you begin your search in Death City itself, as I very much doubt that either of them will have gone far._ ”

“Duly noted,” Soul acknowledged.

The Reaper bobbed his head back and forth, swaying slightly, “ _I wish you all the best of luck._ ”

“Keep your luck,” Black Star scoffed, “If you’re gonna wish anyone luck, give it to Maka.”

“We’ll see who needs luck,” Maka muttered, then straightened, “Is that all, Lord Death?”

“ _Yes, that about sums it up. I bid you all goodbye._ ”

With that, the mirror went dark, and returned to its normal reflection.

“Welp, I guess we better get started,” Soul sighed, “Least it’s better than listening to our substitute.”

“We’ll start by looking into some of those reports Lord Death mentioned,” Maka started, taking out her notebook and flipping to a blank page, jotting down the basis of a plan, “With any luck, we might be able to see if any of the sightings took place in specific parts of the city; if they overlap at all, we just might have a good place to start looking.”

“It certainly sounds like a good idea,” Tsubaki agreed, “Maybe we should also check the hospital wing and Sid’s house? Who knows, maybe Sid left something behind.”

“Not likely, but I guess it can’t hurt,” Maka pursed her lips, “Anything that can help us track him down would help a lot.”

Black Star said nothing, merely turning on his heel and starting towards the guillotine gates, “Come on, Tsubaki. Standing around planning isn’t gonna get us anywhere; we gotta get a move on.”

“Right! Coming!”

“Don’t act out on your own!” Maka shouted after them, “Our chances of pulling this off improve immensely as long as we work together.”

“Then don’t fall behind and don’t get in my way,” Black Star shot back, never once looking back as he continued on.

Maka let out a growl, but quickly stifled it, instead pocketing her notes once again, “I’m already wondering if we’ve bitten off more than we can chew…”

“Hey, we can’t exactly let them get expelled, now can we?” Soul asked with a slight smile, once more stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“No,” she confessed, “but that doesn’t mean I’m looking _forwards_ to being saddled with Black Star’s ego for the next two weeks.”

“Then let’s get this wrapped up.”

“… right.”

With that, the two started down the gates.

“… this means Luz’s lessons will need to be put off… damn it…”

To his credit, Soul’s ear’s only gently twitched as he heard Maka’s faint whisper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, this wait for the Boiling Isles just keeps getting longer and longer, huh?... well, I hope Luz spending time with Spirit makes up for it. I'm really loving their dynamic, personally.
> 
> Thanks for giving this a read, everyone, and thank you so much for your patience and understanding with me. Let me know what you think! I hope you all enjoyed the fifth chapter of Owls and Souls, Witches and Resonance!


	6. Late Night Studies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Soul Eater or Owl House.
> 
> If I did, I would be trying to fund an official Brotherhood style remake of Soul Eater.
> 
> Nor do I own the song Resonance. Credit for this translation of Resonance's lyrics goes to Give Heart Records/NateWantstoBattle.

“ _¿Papi?_ Are you sure you’re okay?”

Spirit let out a low breath, giving Luz a smile as he folded his hands in his lap, leaning back in the comfortable chair. They sat across from each other in the living room, the window behind the Death Scythe allowing what little remained of the sunset to stream into the room with a rich orange glow, illuminating the small bookshelf beside the fireplace behind his daughter.

After he’d finally managed to compose himself enough to stand again in the book store, the trip to take Luz home had been an unusually quiet affair; she hadn’t turned on the radio or put on any music. She just kept giving him the same concerned look, over and over again – and really, he wasn’t in any position to blame her for it.

He had, after all, had a complete nervous breakdown in the middle of a bookstore.

“I’m fine, Luz,” he assured, “Really. I just… had some nasty flashbacks is all.”

“From a name?” she asked, concern still lacing her words.

“That name isn’t a particularly pleasant one for him, _Mija._ ”

Luz craned her neck as Camilia entered the room, carrying a trio of mugs; each of the hot cocoas was topped with a mix of foam and spice. The aroma, somewhere between sweet and bitter with the rich shadow of dark chocolate, more than enough to soothe their frayed nerves, Spirit feeling a smile stretch across his face as Luz’s eyes lit up with delight.

The doctor gently set each mug down on the coffee table before walking away, and carrying over a wooden chair from the dining table nearby.

“I can take that,” Spirit rose to his feet.

“No,” Camilia stated firmly, setting the chair down so that she was facing both of them, “You’re the guest, Spirit. There’s no reason for you to not have a nice chair while you’re here.”

“What about me?” Luz squirmed, trying to put her leg rest back down into the chair so she could stand, “I live here. I can take the kitchen chair. I can’t really sit still anyways.”

Camilia gave a wry smile as she sat down, crossing her legs before picking up her own mug of cocoa, taking a sip, “From where I’m sitting, you seem pretty comfortable right where you are, Luz. Just stay where you are.”

With that, Luz settled down, finally managing to put down her leg rest so she could reach her mug, “If you’re sure.”

In turn, the Death Scythe sat back down, gratefully taking a sip from his cup; sweet and bitter warmth nearly burnt his lips and tongue, but the sensation was so soothing he couldn’t help but take another. He let out a contented sigh, settling back and closing his eyes as a comfortable numbness overtook him.

“It sounds like you two had quite a day,” Camilia began, “Did you enjoy yourselves?”

“I did!” Luz piped up.

“We spent an embarrassing amount of time trying to get my rental,” Spirit confessed with a chuckle, “But yeah. I’d say today’s been a good day on the whole.”

“ _Bien,_ ” Camilia nodded, “I’m glad to hear it.”

“I’m surprised you’re home this early, Mom,” Luz wiped her mouth, getting rid of the foam moustache that had wrapped around her upper lip, “Did your shift end early?”

“Yes. Today actually went fairly smoothly, for once,” she nodded, “But can you say the same about your homework, Luz?”

At this, Luz bit her lip, tapping her fingers together, the very picture of the word contrite, “… uuuuuh…”

“You _were_ supposed to have it all done so I could drop it off today,” Camilia reminded, chiding, “I know we went to pick up Spirit, but that doesn’t mean your homework and studies suddenly disappear.”

The Latina girl slumped, deflated, “… _Lo sé…_ ”

“Hey, there can’t be that much left, can there?” Spirit asked, “It _is_ the end of the school year, and I trust you’ve been working hard to get it done?”

Luz raised her head, “… well, there’s a couple of assignments left…”

“Do you think you could get them done by the end of the night?”

She glanced at the clock, frowning, “… well, if I were to start now, then… maybe?”

“Why don’t you see how far you can get?” he suggested, “Work on it for an hour or so, then take a break. I’ll still be here when you’re done.”

“Well…” she shifted in her chair, obviously debating to herself, if the frown on her face was any indication. She pursed her lips, obviously not actually wanting to go do her homework…

“Your father will be here for the full two weeks, Luz,” Camilia reminded, “The more you get done now, the more time you will be able to spend with him when you aren’t studying.”

“… hard to argue with that logic,” she finally sighed, pushing herself up.

“Just let me know if you need any help, okay?” he smiled, “I can probably help you with just about anything you’re having trouble on.”

Luz gave a smile, “I will, _Papi._ Thank you.”

With that, she picked up her mug, and left the room, walking slowly up the steps to her room as to not spill any of the hot cocoa.

Once again, Spirit’s eyes closed as his smile slipped from his face, brow creasing as his mouth drew itself into a thin line.

“… you’re good at hiding your distress,” Camilia noted, “I’m not sure if that’s a good thing.”

“Right now it is,” he decided, bringing his hands up to rub his eyes, “It’s bad enough Luz saw me collapse in the middle of the bookstore babbling nonsense. I don’t need her seeing me like _this,_ too.”

“I think I have a good idea of what happened, but I’d just like to confirm,” the doctor stated, once again sipping from her cup, “What exactly was it that caused such an overt reaction from you, Spirit?”

Another deep breath as he grit his teeth, trying to keep his heart rate from once again skyrocketing. Slowly he opened his eyes, staring down into the foam of his mug, trying to focus on the warmth flowing into him through his hands.

“… Stein,” he finally admitted, “Luz asked me about Stein.”

It was Camilia’s turn to let out a deep sigh of her own, carefully setting her mug down on the coffee table, “I thought so. I can hardly blame you for having that kind of reaction, given your history with him; I only knew him through my training as a nurse, and I found him absolutely dreadful.”

“… you don’t know the half of it,” Spirit muttered, taking a large swallow of the cocoa, paying no heed as it seared his mouth.

“How did she even learn his name?” Camilia asked, “I certainly never mentioned him to her.”

“She overheard me talking to Sid on the phone. Sid needed to tell me something, and… well, he came up,” Spirit shrugged, helpless, “‘s really not anyone’s fault. I just… forgot, I guess. I should’ve seen her asking about a name she’d never heard before; you know how curious she is.”

“She should also know not to pry into people’s lives,” Camilia stated.

“Come on, Camilia, Luz didn’t do anything wrong,” he set his mug down, gesturing up the stairs to where their daughter had wandered, “It’s not like she _knew_ asking about him would cause that. It’s only natural to ask about what you don’t know, and… honestly, I thought I was further along in being able to handle those memories a little better.”

“… trauma is rarely so deftly handled, Spirit,” she gave him a sad smile, though her tone remained firm, “Even for a Death Scythe, there are some things that do not heal easily.”

“… yeah. I know,” he agreed.

A moment of silence passed between them.

“… it’s not that I hate Stein, Camilia – I really don’t,” he set the mug down, folding his hands in his lap once more, “I spent the better part of six years as his partner. We shared an apartment; we lived together, ate together, Hell, we even shared a room for two years before we could afford a place big enough to have more than one bedroom. In all that time, he… well, he definitely gave me some funny looks, but there was a reason I was chosen to reign him in. He was almost never overtly aggressive with me the way he was with others.”

“And yet, that doesn’t change what he did to you,” she pointed out, “He experimented on you in your sleep. You still have every incision mark he made over the course of those six years before you switched partners.”

“The only reason I even know about those is because of Makoto,” Spirit rubbed at his temples, “She pointed them out to me soon after we got together. It was the main reason she got me away from him in the first place… she never did like that I was stuck looking after a lunatic.”

She crossed her arms, “Well, I can’t say I disagree with her assessment.”

“Someone had to do it-”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

Spirit heard more than felt his mouth snap shut, his teeth making an audible click as his jaw swiftly closed; the severity of her words, along with her expression were more than enough of an argument, though she continued regardless.

“I don’t care how great a Meister Stein was or is, Spirit. I agree that he at least deserved to have someone reach out to him as a friend – however, I don’t believe that there was any need for you to put your physical safety on the line just to keep him in check. Even at Death’s behest as a child.”

The Death Scythe managed to meet her gaze, gauging her; somehow, the glasses only added to the intensity of her eyes, and for a moment, he was taken back to those nights fifteen years ago. It had been that exact intensity that had drawn him to her, even after he’d gotten out of that hospital bed.

He managed a bittersweet smile, pushing past the beckoning nostalgia, knowing it would only lead to regret, “Never gonna be able to change your mind, am I?”

“Not on them, no.”

“I still think you’re a little harsh on my boss,” the redhead confessed, picking up the mug again, “Lord Death doing his best with what he’s got.”

“He asks too much of people who are too young. You and Maka among them.”

“I wouldn’t have let Maka enrol in the DWMA if I weren’t sure it was the best course of action for her,” he raised a finger, his smile becoming more genuine, “She’s a tough kid. And bookish as she is, I just don’t think she’d be content as a strict academic. She’d be too constrained.”

The Latina woman frowned, “She would be safer if you hadn’t let her.”

“But she wouldn’t be happy.”

A poignant silence held between the two of them; Spirit let his eyes fall once more into his mug, idly swirling the cocoa before taking another large swallow, not wanting to let it cool.

“… so you would rather let your daughter risk life and limb than see her upset?” the doctor asked.

He finished the contents of his mug, setting it down as he spoke, “Legal custody aside, Camilia… Maka has enough reasons to hate me. I destroyed my relationship with her, and I…”

He trailed off, struggling to find the words.

She did not speak; she sat, eyes fixed upon him, wordlessly waiting for him to finish.

“… I already have a tendency to be… overbearing with her,” he finally continued, “If I were to pull her from the program… I genuinely think she’d despise me. And I’m not sure that I could handle that.”

“… so you let her be a soldier?” she queried pointedly.

He felt his smile widen a little more, “I let her be a hero.”

Once again, that uneasy silence, broken only by the ticking of the antique clock on the wall.

“… I think… the main reason that Lord Death runs the DWMA the way he does… is because it’s easier to teach kids the abilities and responsibilities of their Soul Wavelength than it is to teach adults,” he let his mind flow, words coming to him unbidden, “It’s not impossible to teach adults, mind you, but… it’s hard to learn. And Soul Wavelength is not something you want to be teaching to just anyone.”

“… I know,” Camilia conceded, staring into the foam of her own mug, “You don’t have to have a Kishin Egg for a Soul to be evil… and even immature good, in its own way…”

“… can be every bit as dangerous as genuine evil,” he nodded, “Adults usually need to unlearn and relearn so much just to start down the path of being a Weapon or Meister. Like I said, it’s not impossible. Oftentimes, it’s worth it. But it’s easier to train Weapons and Meisters who are both strong, and have a thorough understanding of why they have that strength and what they should use it for, if they start when they’re kids.”

“… but the DWMA doesn’t just have them learning, does it?”

Once again, steel had entered Camilia’s voice, hard and uncompromising.

“… no,” he acknowledged, “You’re right about that, Camilia. We do send them out on collection.”

“And you already know my thoughts about _that,_ ” she stated, more to herself than to him, tone somewhat muted as she raised the mug, and took another sip.

This time, he didn't answer.

“... I don’t want Luz to get hurt, Spirit. I know how happy the DWMA might make her,” she raised her head, pushing her glasses back up the bridge of her nose, “But… no amount of happiness is worth the possibility of losing her. In my line of work, I see families fall apart because of a risk taken all too often. I will not make that gamble with our daughter.”

“… I know, Camilia,” he intoned, breathing deep as he once again looked to the stairs.

“I know.”

* * *

Luz settled into her chair, trying to focus on what was left of her schoolwork.

All the essays were finished, albeit in boring, black and white text, despite her greatest temptation to used coloured paper and add glitter and artwork to better demonstrate her point; all her questionnaires were filled out, and she’d double checked her answers… and avoided doodling in the margins. Even her science labs were done, even if she’d had to improvise some of them with whatever she could find in the kitchen.

All that was left were her math worksheets.

She understood addition and subtraction. Luz could even do a certain amount of multiplication and division in her head.

But this?

With all the brackets and decimals and funny looking checkmarks?

“… I may as well be trying to read Ancient Greek,” she murmured, staring at the first question with absolutely no idea of where to start.

Luz didn't feel like getting out her textbook – with how thick and dry it was, she would be lost in the desert of fractions and XYZ equations, spinning her wheels and going figuratively nowhere. And if she got on the internet to look up the formulas, she knew she would swiftly get distracted, and forget all about the math until it was time for Dad to go home.

And yet, for the life of her, she couldn’t remember what the first step was.

“… maybe I should ask Dad to walk me through this…”

She paused, thinking over her options once again.

“… I’ll just take a break,” she decided, pushing the worksheets aside and flipping up the screen of her laptop, “I could use some cute cat videos right about now.”

The screen came to life as she tapped her keyboard, quickly typing in her password – she always meant to switch it from 600D-W1TC#-LUZUR4 to something more complicated, but never managed to get around to it – and pulling up the browser. She smiled, ready to let her fingers take her where they may…

Then she frowned.

She looked back at her door, which remained firmly closed; if she strained her ears, she could hear Mami and Papi, still talking, though their voices were too far away for her to make out any noise.

“… looking him up couldn’t do any harm, could it?” she asked aloud, turning once again to her computer.

No answer.

Apprehension rose in her chest like a snake sinking its fangs into her heart as she typed in the name.

“Stein,” she repeated, trying to guess at its spelling based on its sound.

As soon as she hit enter, she felt her face scrunch in disgust, appalled as she stared at a Wikipedia article for German beer mugs.

“Stupid internet,” the Latina muttered, clearing the search bar, “This is why we can’t have nice things…”

With a sigh, Luz leaned back in her chair, steepling her hands and pursing her lips, staring up at the ceiling.

“Okay… so we know this ‘Stein’ guy is someone _Papi_ knows…” she spoke, “Maybe he was with the DWMA?...”

This new hypothesis in mind, she leaned forwards in her chair, once again letting her fingers tap across the keyboard, “Stein Death Weapon Meister Academy.”

This time, her results were more promising.

“… Doctor Franken Stein,” Luz read aloud, staring at the image the internet presented to her.

The first word that came to mind for the girl was ‘dishevelled.’ With a messy head of hair, for a moment Luz thought she was staring at a monochrome image; it was only when she saw the pale grey-green of his eyes behind his glasses that she realized his hair and skin were grey, his pallor outright deathly. He held a cigarette between his teeth, lips upturned in a slight smile she assumed was supposed to be friendly, but only came off as thoroughly unnerving. Everything about him, his stance, the position of his shoulders beneath his haphazardly stitched lab coat and sweater, even his half lidded eyes seemed to scream of a subtle aggression, as if he wanted to reach out from his photo and hurt whoever dared to meet his gaze.

Luz’s blood ran cold as her eyes fixed on the gigantic screw that embedded itself all the way through his skull, its head sticking out of his left side, the tip emerging from his right; she followed the ghastly scar that ran from his forehead down between his eyes, and then veered to the left across his cheek, thin lines of barely visible black thread running across it at regular intervals, leaving the Latina to wonder what it was all for. It seemed as if it were all intended to somehow hold him together, his head split open and then put back together with whatever was on hand…

“… okay. You’re creepy,” she managed a friendly smile, as if hoping to placate the figure in the photo, “But maybe you’re not actually so bad.”

She clicked on the article and slowly scrolled down the page, “Thirty eight years old… skipped a grade… graduated from the DWMA at seventeen… got his first PhD and research doctorate by nineteen, _wow…_ ”

She bit her lip as she continued down, squinting, “Not much about his life beyond that, though, not even his scientific career… pretty bare bones.

“Maybe that’s deliberate?... the DWMA seems to really like keeping its secrets…” Luz backed out of the article, clicking on the photo and studying it closely, despite her misgivings; normally, she was all for creepy, having spent many a late night staying up reading scary stories, both by flashlight and on her phone beneath the covers.

Compared to some of the things she had read and seen, Stein – if this really _was_ the Stein Dad had mentioned – was more than a little understated… and yet, somehow, his mere photo managed to instil something greater than anything her hunts for nightmare fuel had ever managed to procure.

Something deep. Something raw.

“… I’m probably just freaked out,” Luz tried to assure herself with a weak chuckle, “I haven’t even met him yet. It’s not good to judge off a picture… even if Dad’s reaction was…”

She trailed off, struggling to find the words…

Then her phone went off.

“ _Two become one, Our souls have been connected-!”_

She jumped with a yelp, her chair tipping back and dumping her out onto the floor; her eyes spun as her head ached, and she was only distantly aware of her parents’ calls.

“ _¿Mija_? _¿Estas bien?_ ”

“ _S-Sí, Mami,_ ” she groaned, gripping the back of her head and pushing herself up into a sitting position, “Just… fell out of my chair… ow…”

“You sure you’re okay, Luz?” Dad asked.

“I’m fine!” she gave a thumbs up, despite the fact that she was still the only one in the room, “I’m fine. Just… gotta get up.”

The lyrics rang in her ears as she got to her feet, carefully resetting her chair; she settled into the rhythm, letting her fingers drum to the quick paced beat, despite having missed some of the words.

_“Locking eyes, becoming intertwined,_

_“You’ll be sharing your fate with mine!_

_“Side by side, we’ll battle through the night,_

_“And soon enough we’ll find our way!”_

“ _Dios mio,_ ” Luz sighed contentedly over the music, picking up her phone, “I love Resonance.”

As much as she wanted to listen to the rest of the song, she knew who was calling; she could listen later.

Without even looking at the screen, she answered, and held her phone to her ear.

* * *

“ _Hey Maka!_ ”

“Hey Luz,” Maka huffed, the chill night air causing her breath to steam, “Am I interrupting something?”

She walked alongside her Weapon, Soul easily matching her stride as they crept across the cobblestone. It was always like this in Death City – the desert air was always unbearably hot during the day, but frigid during the night, sometimes to the point of frost forming on the rooftops. Even around the longest days of the year, Maka needed her longcoat just to keep herself from shivering in the cold of the short nights.

“ _Just a little bit of math homework. Stupid algebra…_ ”

“Everything in the brackets first,” Maka stated automatically, not even thinking.

“ _… sorry?_ ”

“For algebra,” she explained with a slight smile, “You got a pen?”

“ _I have my computer._ ”

“Then let’s turn this into a couple easy steps; you might want to write this down.

“ _Okay._ ”

“Step one: Break it down into smaller equations. Every equation inside the brackets comes first. Step two: If there are multiple mathematic symbols, multiplication and division come before addition and subtraction. Step three: Once you solve all the equations in the brackets, complete the rest of the equation. Once again, multiplication and division come before addition and subtraction.”

For a long moment, Luz said nothing; the only sound on the line was that of the clicks of a keyboard, and then for a moment, nothing.

“Luz? You still there?”

“ _Sorry, was trying out an equation… you are_ way _too good at this kind of thing, Maka,_ ” Luz remarked, “ _I’d never have remembered that on my own._ ”

“It really looks more intimidating than it actually is,” Maka chuckled, “It’s really more about breaking it down into more basic steps than anything else. It’s not that the math is that hard, it’s that there’s a lot of it.”

“ _No kidding. Wish my teachers explained it better though…_ ” there was a wistful sigh, before a little bit of pep returned to Luz’s voice, “ _Oh, well. Least I know what I’m doing now, kinda._ ”

Maka risked a glance at Soul; aside from his footsteps, he was silent, hands in his pockets as he meandered forwards, shoulders hunched in his usual slouch. His eyes were hidden beneath his brow, but his lips were curled in an expression the Meister couldn’t quite place.

She felt her own lips twist and pull, trying to avoid betraying her nervousness. Maka hadn’t wanted to call Luz while Soul was in earshot, but they needed to spend as much time as possible searching for Sid – which meant getting this out of the way as soon as she could…

“ _So what’s up, Maka?_ ” Luz asked, curious, snapping Maka out of her reverie, “ _You’re not usually the one calling me._ ”

The Meister shook her head, taking a breath to steady herself, “… I just wanted to let you know that something’s come up. We’ll have to put off your lessons for at least a week – maybe even two.”

“ _… oh._ ”

Maka felt her jaw clench, screwing her eyes shut to keep herself from doubling over at the familiar stab of guilt; one word– no, not even a word, a single vocalization was enough for her to feel Luz’s sudden emotional plummet, all the cheer in her voice suddenly replaced with a sobering solemnness.

She said nothing, waiting for her half sister to fully process her words…

“ _… is it… another mission?_ ” Luz’s tone was hopeful, but it failed to disguise the undercurrent of disappointment and sadness, “ _Are you starting to collect Souls again?_ ”

“Not yet, no,” she tugged at her glove with her teeth, trying to get it tight as she could, “… one of the teachers at the DWMA was murdered a few days ago.”

“ _... oh…_ ”

It was odd how the same basic sound could convey such different emotions – before, it was a distinct sound of sorrow. But now, Luz’s voice carried something entirely different – a sudden, shocked clarity, tinged with no small amount of abject horror.

“Soul and I have been paired up with another Weapon and Meister pair for this mission,” Maka explained, keeping her tone brisk, “This isn’t like most missions where we can afford some level of free time and leniency – this isn’t the typical Kishin Egg Collection. We’ve been given two weeks to track down the killer, and we need to dedicate all the time we have to finding them-”

“ _Maka, aren’t the teachers at the DWMA all really strong? Like_ Papi _?_ ” there was more than a little bit of concern in Luz’s voice.

“… Dad is stronger than all of the other teachers, Luz,” she huffed, stifling the urge to add scathing sarcasm, “But they’re all very strong, yes.”

“ _… then why are they sending you after someone that killed one of them?_ ”

“We won’t be dealing with the killer ourselves – not if everything goes according to plan,” Maka assured, “We’ll just be trying to track the killer down. After we’ve found them, Three Star Weapons and Meisters will take it from there.”

“ _… okay._ ”

Luz didn’t sound as though her worries were put to rest; if anything, she sounded entirely unconvinced of Maka’s safety, her voice tiny, even frightened.

The Meister’s stomach twisted, once again churning with conflicting emotions. On the one hand, she didn’t want Luz to worry… but on the other, it was somehow comforting, knowing how much Luz genuinely cared for her.

“I’ll be okay, Luz. I’m not going to be doing anything dangerous – it’s just investigation, nothing more than that. We’re not going to be fighting anyone we’re not able to handle.”

It took a moment for Luz to respond this time, clearly struggling to keep herself from pursuing the issue further. Instead, she took a deep breath, “ _... can I ask who it is that… died?_ ”

“… Professor Sid,” Maka sighed, a wave of melancholy washing over her as she once again closed her eyes. The deep-skinned tattooed man had been a strict instructor, but a kind, honest man who did his best to help his students thrive – it was hard to imagine why anyone would want to kill him.

“ _... Sid? As in… Sid Barret?_ ”

Maka’s eyes snapped back open at Luz’s confused tone, a chill running through her, “… yeah…?”

“ _... you said he was murdered several days ago, right?_ ” the Latina asked.

“His body was found on Friday,” Maka confirmed, “Luz, _how_ do you know Sid?”

“ _… that doesn’t make any sense, Maka. He_ called _Dad_ _earlier today._ ”

The chill turned to a cold shock, making her stagger and nearly trip over the cobbles; she stared straight forwards, eyes unfocused, incredulous, “… he _called Dad?_ ”

“ _Yeah. I didn’t hear most of what he was saying, but it sounded important. Dad said something about someone named Naigus getting angry and making sure he would “stay dead this time.”_ ”

“… Lord Death said he was turned into a zombie,” Maka murmured.

“ _Wait, he’s a zombie?_ ” her half sister queried.

“Luz,” Maka brought herself back into focus, brow creasing as her mind raced, “Did you manage to catch anything else from Sid’s conversation with Dad?”

 _‘Naigus’ anger when she came to fetch us,’_ the Scythe wielder thought, _‘“Stay dead this time.” Sending students after Sid instead of actual DWMA faculty… what am I missing here?’_

“ _… not all that much, to be honest,_ ” Luz confessed, “ _But there was one other name that came up. Has Dad ever told you about a guy named ‘Stein’?_ ”

Maka’s lips twisted into a grimace as she closed her eyes, rubbing at her temple, “… the name _sounds_ somewhat familiar, but I don’t think I ever heard it from Dad specifically.”

“ _He freaked out when I asked him about it. Like, he_ really _lost it – not yelling but… he kinda curled up on the floor in a ball and babbled to himself._ ”

“That’s not exactly hard to do, if you know how,” she grumbled, mind drifting back to every time Dad made a fool of himself trying to ‘fix’ their relationship over the past month alone, a searing spike of spite embedding itself in her stomach.

“ _Maka, this is_ serious,” Luz hissed, for the first time actually sounding angry, “ _He was scared out of his mind by a_ name. _I have_ never _seen him like that; I know you’re mad at him, but even you have to admit that’s not normal considering what he’s probably seen as a Death Scythe._ ”

Maka grit her teeth, then forced herself to take a deep breath; whatever the Meister’s feelings towards their father, no matter how badly she wanted to write him off as a good-for-nothing, Luz was right about one thing at the very least.

“… okay, you make a good point,” she acquiesced, “That’s _not_ normal…”

“ _None of this is…_ ” Luz’s voice was low, and Maka could practically see the way her brow creased as she thought, “ _Okay, let’s take this from the top. What happened, exactly? And what do you have to do?_ ”

“Professor Sid Barret was murdered on Friday,” Maka let her tone become clinical as she recalled the sequence of events and the reports she’d since read over, “When DWMA staff performed an autopsy, they found Sid was killed seemingly without any struggle, with a statuette embedded in his forehead, completely destroying his frontal lobe. Shortly afterwards, his body went missing, and a figure with a very strong resemblance to Sid has since been seen stalking or even attacking DWMA students.”

“ _Hence the belief that he’s been turned into a zombie,_ ” Luz concluded.

“Right. Soul and I have been asked to work with Dark Arm Meister Black Star and Magic Dark Arm Weapon Tsubaki Nakatsukasa in order to track down and defeat Sid before he regains his strength,” Maka finished, “Lord Death referred to all this as an ‘extra lesson,’ if that means anything.”

“ _Bit of an odd way to refer to a murder investigation,_ ” Luz hummed, “ _Meanwhile, on my end, Sid called_ Papi _in order to tell him something important. They mentioned someone named Naigus – don’t know who that is-_ “

“Sid’s Weapon partner,” Maka confirmed, “He was a Knife Meister.”

“ _Oh, okay. So, they mentioned Sid’s partner, they mentioned Death, and they mentioned this Stein guy,_ ” Luz continued, “ _Dad said Naigus was gonna be angry at Sid for whatever this ‘something’ was. We know Stein had something to do with it – and Dad asked if Death knew about it. Sid said Death_ sanctioned _it, if I’m remembering right._ ”

“ _Sanctioned_ it?” Maka felt her nose wrinkle; she already didn’t like where this was going.

“ _Apparently._ ”

Maka brought a hand to her forehead, the fabric’s warmth pleasant against her skin in the cold as the gears in her mind continued to turn. Up until a moment ago, everything Lord Death had told her had added up. But with the addition of what Luz had overheard, everything had been thrown completely off; no longer did the Scythe wielder have any certainties or solid conclusions to work with.

The only way any of it made any sense when put together with everything she’d been told so far was if…

“ _Are you sure you’re okay, Maka?_ ” the question once again brought her back to earth, “ _You seem really out of it._ ”

“Yes, Luz, just trying to work things out,” the Meister raised her head, staring up at the moon, “Look, I’ll call you back later, okay? I need to figure this out.”

“ _… okay, Maka._ Te amo - _love you. Keep me posted, alright?_ ”

“I will. Goodnight, Luz.”

She slipped off a glove, and ended the call, lips pulled taught across her face.

“… so. Certainly sounds like there’s more to this than we thought,” Soul said, breaking his silence.

“Leave it to Luz to accidentally overhear teacher conversations,” Maka pocketed her phone, crossing her arms.

“Nosy, I take it?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe. She means well, but Luz just doesn’t know when to leave well enough alone.”

“Where have I heard of someone like that before?”

Maka grit her teeth at the smugness in Soul’s tone, “Stuff it, Soul.”

“Hey, just saying, if I didn’t know any better-”

She reached into her coat, and pulled out her hardcover notebook, cracking him upside the head with the edge – not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to cut him off. His ensuing chuckle, however did nothing to ease her worsening temper as she flipped it open.

“Knock it off,” she snapped, cutting him off before he could continue, “We’ve got to meet up with Tsubaki and Black Star before it gets any later. We looked over all the Sid sightings, right?”

“You and Tsubaki did, yeah. Black Star didn't want to do any reading and you stuck me with babysitting,” Soul sobered, rolling his shoulders, “Arm wrestling with that guy freakin’ hurts… anyways, you said you narrowed it down to a particular spot?”

“More a general area,” Maka clarified, “Though we at least have a place to start looking. The Hook Cemetery.”

“A cemetery? Really?” he scoffed, “Bit cliché, don’t you think?”

“Hey, you want to complain, you take it up with Sid when we find him,” she huffed, snapping her notebook shut.

“I’ll be sure to do that,” he stated wryly, “Though you gotta admit – Luz made some good points. Suddenly I’m not so sure it’s as cut and dry as Lord Death wants us to believe.”

“That can wait, Soul,” Maka redoubled her pace, pulling ahead of her Weapon, unable to quite keep the edge out of her voice, “Collection of data now, scrutiny of data later.”

“… someone’s touchy,” she heard him mutter, though she did not respond.

Maka, ultimately, just wanted this night over with.

* * *

It was a strange thing to adapt to – the fact that his organs didn’t work anymore.

He still had his sense of sight, taste, smell, hearing and touch, but it was no longer in the conventional sense, as not only had his nervous system shut down, but so too had his brain – his frontal lobe had been completely destroyed, effectively rendering the organ entirely useless. He could follow things visually, and he had directional hearing, but his eyes and ears weren’t really what conveyed the information to him.

No, what he was relying on was the perception of his Soul, returned to his corpse.

All at once, he felt more perceptive of the world than he ever had while he was alive. His vision wasn’t bound to his eyes, his hearing wasn’t bound to his ears – the beams of light that reflected off every surface in all their different colours, the vibrations of sound that bounced off every object and radiated through the atmosphere, the smells and tastes that wafted through the air all touched his Soul directly, all so much more vibrant to him than ever before in their direct exposure to his spirit.

But not all the sensations were pleasant.

His sense of touch, most notably, was particularly troublesome at the moment.

Without a vessel to inhabit, there is precious little a Soul can do to interact with the world. The man that had revived him had been gracious enough to prepare his body, applying relaxants to allow him to move his muscles and joints, applying preservatives to keep him in perfect working condition, but despite all this, he felt none of the familiarity that he should have. His body felt alien – his lungs would not fill or empty on their own, forcing him to consciously take breaths when he wanted to speak. His heartbeat was completely absent. His muscles felt heavy and sluggish, and every time he moved, he felt as much as he heard his bones and joints crack with quiet dismay at being forced to bend.

“… good with the bad, I suppose,” he huffed, crossing his arms in the cool dark, “I’m not going to complain – that’s not the kind of man I was.”

He extended his senses, tuning out the physical world – the dirt and roots and stones that surrounded him, the total lack of light, the protest of his body – and sought out his targets. Provided they had already completed their research into his late night prowlings, the four young Souls should arrive at some point before the night was through.

“So you really think he’s skulking around here?”

If he could, he would have blinked in surprise.

Two Souls were already present in the world above him, beyond the dirt and turf, glowing in the darkness. The first was practically electric with latent energy, zipping back and forth and bouncing against the internal confines of his body, a brilliant sky blue laden with spikes, like a newborn star.

“This is where all the sightings seem to have been centered, Black Star,” a placating female voice responded – the second Soul, glowing a warm, muted yellow with a calming aura, almost perfectly still, its only motion being that of its long thin tail, wrapping around itself and constantly morphing from a tail to a chain, tipped with any number of weapons, “Maka and I checked the reports pretty thoroughly. They all seemed to be focused in the general area around the Hook Cemetery, so this seems like the most logical place to look.”

“Well, at least she’s good for _something,_ ” Black Star snorted, “Though I bet you could’ve figured it out all by yourself, Tsubaki. You’re a way bigger star than Maka is. We don’t need their help to beat up on a dead man.”

“Maybe not, but I’m sure they’ll at least make our lives easier,” Tsubaki assured, “Don’t forget that Sid was a Three Star Meister. Even if he’s weaker than normal, we shouldn’t take him lightly.”

“Hmph. Maybe they’ll serve as a good distraction, but I’m not holding my breath. Maka’s not good for much of anything that doesn’t involve a book,” Black Star quipped.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” A new voice, young, feminine, and snide, broke into the conversation as the third and fourth Souls finally entered his restricted field of vision, “Maybe you should make sure that the person you’re insulting isn’t in earshot before you take shots behind their back.”

Maka’s Soul was a matte forest green, small, but bright. It didn’t bear Black Star’s excitable energy, but it wasn’t calm the way Tsubaki’s was, either; it bore a quiet determination, resolute with the refusal to allow herself to be pushed around.

“Well, look who decided to show up,” the ninja jeered, “And here I thought I wasn’t gonna be able to tell you that to your face tonight.”

“Shut it,” Maka snapped, “I’m not in the mood and we have a job to do. I’m not willing to waste my time listening to you spit into the wind.”

“Alright. Have it your way,” the blue Soul snickered.

The final Soul’s glow was a brilliant mix of alternating red and white; one overtook the other in a constant flow like an eternally spinning kaleidoscope, mesmerizing, almost calming in its own way, a stark contrast to the annoyed sigh he let out, almost more of a growl, “Please don’t make me play babysitter tonight. I _really_ don’t want to mediate between you two.”

“Then tell Black Star not to pick fights, Soul,” Maka ran a hand along a gravestone, studying its inscription.

“I’m sorry, Maka, but who just said she wasn’t in the mood?” Black Star asked.

As the back and forth gradually began to rise into a squabble, the man beneath the soil mused to himself, turning his attention from one Soul to the other.

Maka Albarn.

Soul Eater.

Tsubaki Nakatsukasa.

Black Star.

Four of the students he had taught while he was alive.

All excellent students in their own ways, but all uniquely frustrating in others.

Now would be the perfect time to spring an attack and catch them off guard – arguing and distracted, it would not be difficult to knock them off kilter, and from there take them down one by one.

But that wasn’t his job right now.

“Too used to thinking like an assassin in the field,” he grumbled to himself, certain his words wouldn’t carry; this far beneath the earth, there was no way they would hear him.

His job in this moment was to observe them; to see how each pair acted as a team in both their investigation of the area, and in their ability to actually function in combat.

The combat aspect of this mission would come later.

For now, he would simply see how they intended to search the area.

“Let’s just get to work,” Maka finally growled, “Soul and I aren’t quite as agile, so for now, we’re going to stick to ground level. Black Star, Tsubaki, do you think you two can keep an eye on things from higher ground?”

“It _would_ allow us to survey the area better,” Tsubaki agreed.

“I was planning on doing that anyways!” Black Star declared, “It’ll be perfect for my dramatic entrance!”

“Whatever. Just get up into the trees and keep an eye out. And whatever you do, don’t act on your own; this is a joint mission, and if you act out, it won’t just be yourself that you’re sabotaging, Black Star.”

“Hey, last time I checked, I was the big star around here, Maka. You stick to your bit part and don’t order me around.”

Before Maka could respond, Black Star addressed his partner, “Tsubaki, Kusarigama Mode.”

“Right!”

With that, the shape of Tsubaki’s Soul changed. It retained its golden brilliance, but the ponytail took on a more definite shape, solidifying into a chain with a pair of small handheld scythes at the ends.

“YAHOOOOOOO!” Black Star shouted as he leaped upwards, his Soul growing more and more distant, rising into the dark above.

Though he could not tell where the boy had gone from beneath the ground, the man knew Black Star had scampered up into the trees.

“Surveying the area from a higher angle during the night is actually a decent strategy,” he mused, “In addition, it keeps me from keeping any real track of him as far down as I am – I can’t sense his Soul anymore. I was having a hard enough of a time doing that with all this stone and dirt muting them, but now he’s totally beyond reach. On the one hand, this restricts my ability to keep an eye on him… but on the other, it’s an entirely tactically sound move.

“Which leaves me to instead watch Soul and Maka…”

“… God,” Maka moaned, “ _How_ does Tsubaki put up with him?”

“Well, the big difference is that Black Star actually likes Tsubaki,” Soul noted, “He _doesn’t_ really like you all that much.”

“Yeah, I _noticed,_ ” Maka bit out, taking in a seething breath before finally seeming to settle, “… okay. Okay, I’m good.”

“Usual method?” Soul asked.

“Usual method. Let’s go.”

With that, Soul and Maka set off.

The man reached out, and dug, grunting as he wriggled through the dirt and between stones and roots to keep pace with the Weapon and Meister; having gotten accustomed to the Hook Cemetery, Sid knew they were roughly at the west entrance, making their way north, right along the wrought iron gates.

They moved slowly, but with purpose; popping his head up just enough to get an actual glimpse of their physical forms past the dirt, he studied their actions closely. Despite the earlier argument, the two now seemed almost completely at ease; Maka kept her head firmly forwards, only occasionally glancing to the right or the left before resuming her path, clearly on the lookout for anything amiss.

Soul, on the other hand, kept his gaze to the right, looking into the cemetery; to the untrained eye, one might say he seemed distracted, but the man knew better, especially given the unusual focus in the boy’s crimson eyes. His gaze traced the gravestones, the blackened, twisted trees and the hundreds upon hundreds of hooks that hung from their withered branches, rusted beyond all hope of repair.

 _‘Committing his battlefield to memory,’_ the man observed with a grim satisfaction, _‘Allowing his Meister to search for their target while he takes note of not only the nature of their terrain, but all possible escape routes, both for the purpose of cutting off their target and for the sake of making an escape if the battle goes wrong, all of which he can communicate to her in an instant during a Resonance. On top of that, he’s keeping to her right side, so she has immediate access to him with her dominant hand should they spot me or be taken by surprise – a subtle, but important move, and he seems to have it down to a habit. Soul may act like a delinquent, but he’s far more diligent than he lets on._

_‘… now if only he showed this kind of dedication for his actual coursework.’_

“Pretty big place… should we pick up the pace?”

“We need to be thorough. We need to cover the entire perimeter before searching the rest of the grounds. This isn’t like that stupid Slender game Luz sent me where all the pages are in pre-set locations.”

“Wait, that was _her?_ ” Soul gave his partner an amused grin, “I was wondering what that was doing on your laptop.”

Maka scoffed, crossing her arms, “Knock it off. I’m saying that Sid could be anywhere, and we gotta search this place top to bottom if we want to actually find him. Edges first, internals second.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know… does she know you were too scared to go into the woods for a week after that?”

“Shut it.”

“Alright, alright…”

They continued for a long few minutes in silence.

“… you gonna use that new technique?” Soul queried.

“What new technique?” Maka asked suspiciously.

“You know, the eye thing,” the Scythe reached up, tapping the side of his right eye, “Didn’t you say you were practicing to see Souls?”

The man went stock still, surprise running through him like an electrical jolt.

“… it’s not perfect, yet,” Maka admitted with a sigh, “I really gotta focus to actually pull it off, and I’m still having a hard time finding all the nuances of different Souls. They largely still look the same to me.”

He stared openly at Maka now, keeping himself as still as he could, lest his shock give him away; they were talking about a technique even Three Star Weapons and Meisters had difficulty performing. He had mastered it himself out of necessity, but it had still taken him a great many hours of practice to learn to perceive Souls. It wasn’t something One Star Weapons and Meisters, much less ones that were only on the cusp of beginning their second year of official training, should have been able to perform.

And yet Maka was talking as if she had not only done it once already, but had actively been practicing it…

“Well, only other people here are Black Star and Tsubaki,” Soul pointed out, “Chances are nobody else is gonna be out here. This isn’t exactly a pleasant time to visit the dearly departed.”

“And yet, in a way, that’s exactly what we’re doing,” Maka noted wryly, smiling slightly.

“Heh. In a way,” Soul chuckled, “But come on. At the very least it’s worth the practice.”

“… alright, fine, you win,” Maka finally conceded, coming to a complete halt. She breathed, deep through her nose, and then exhaled slowly through the mouth, the tension in her shoulders gradually disappearing…

And when she turned to survey the graveyard, her eyes were completely unfocused, as though she were staring into some empty void only she could perceive, the faint ripple of her Wavelength changing almost imperceptibly – a clear sign she was perceiving the world around her not with her eyes, but with her Soul.

 _‘… amazing,’_ he thought, _‘That she can perform this technique even imperfectly is astounding… you really are an incredible Meister, Maka Albarn.’_

“See anything, Maka?” Soul asked.

“Not yet…” she murmured, letting her gaze sweep the graveyard-

And then her head snapped to the side, her eyes fixing right on his position.

Before he could force his sluggish body to act, Maka was moving. She gripped Soul’s arm, and he did not hesitate to react in turn. Immediately, his body disappeared in a flash of white light, replaced with a plain steel staff with a curved crescent blade of red and black at the end.

Maka leaped forwards in a forward flip before driving her Weapon down with every ounce of force she could muster, the Scythe in her hands gleaming in the moonlight as it arced down, seeking to draw blood.

Knowing he couldn’t dodge in time, he instead went for the next best thing.

He gripped the gravestone to his right, and pulled it out of position, causing it to topple over right into the blade’s path; Soul’s blade easily bit into the stone, but stopped just short of his head, leaving him with just enough time to extract himself from the earth, gravestone in hand.

 _‘That was a little too close for comfort,’_ he grit his permanently bared teeth, _‘If I’d still been alive, I could have easily dodged that attack, even parried it with my bare hands. This body just isn’t responding like it used to – and my Soul is still recovering, on top of it.’_

“Sid Barret!” Maka shouted, sinking into her stance with both hands on her Weapon, “You have died and been unnaturally raised from the grave! Your Soul is mine!”

Sid only glanced at the name on the tombstone before returning his attention to the young Meister and Weapon, _‘Apologies, Mr. Graham. I’ll pay to have your tombstone repaired personally once this is over.’_

He pulled his lips back in a vicious grin, hefting the cross shaped stone up onto his shoulder, “You’re going to have to try much harder than that, Miss Albarn. If that’s all you’ve got to offer, then you won’t even be taking a finger from me, much less my Soul.

“Besides, you two didn’t even give me the time to wish you a good evening; it seems I’ll have to teach you some manners.”

“I don’t think you have much room to be lecturing us about manners,” Soul’s distorted voice echoed out from the Scythe, “Especially with all the skulking around you’ve been doing, Sid.”

“Maybe not,” he conceded, “But I’ve always been an enthusiastic educator; that’s the kind of man I was. And would you look at the time…”

As if on cue, the nearby church bell began to ring. Once… twice… six times total.

Sid let his grin widen, sinking into his own stance, legs wide, knees bent, his dead, blue skin catching an eerie sheen in the golden moonlight, “Class is now officially in session.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, getting into some action! Feels good to know an actual fight scene is in the near future.
> 
> Just don't expect it to go as smoothly as it did in canon. Even off kilter like this, Sid's a tough cookie.
> 
> Sorry it took so long to get this chapter out. I was making very merry across Christmas and New Years and it's hard to keep up with writing with family obligations and all.
> 
> Thank you all for reading and for your patience and understanding with me. Let me know what you think! I hope you all enjoyed the sixth chapter of Owls and Souls, Witches and Resonance!


	7. Clashes and Conclusions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Owl House or Soul Eater.
> 
> If I did, this might actually get animated.

Soul could feel Maka’s heartbeat through her palms. Even through the fabric of her gloves, made to reduce the development of blisters on her hands as she fought, the Meister’s pulse was always more than apparent to the Weapon; it was a constant, a familiar beat to try and match. Most nights, it was steady, the routine of Kishin Egg collection lulling Maka into an almost Zen state of calm – not the boredom brought by monotony, but the certain tranquility that could only result from hours upon hours of practice.

Now, however, her heartbeat was resounding at an entirely different pace.

Within the black void in which his human form floated, reflected only faintly in the blade of his Scythe, Soul couldn’t help but frown. He knew Maka was high strung by her very nature; it wasn’t something she could help. She was always looking for something to do, always seeking something to keep her mind and hands occupied. It was never to the point where she disregarded the benefits of rest, but the very idea of being idle was something she absolutely abhorred. She genuinely loathed the idea of just sitting down and doing nothing for any stretch of time. In essence, it was almost impossible for the Scythe Meister to be truly at ease.

But even taking that into account, her heart rate had reached a height Soul had only rarely felt.

The final night of their fight with Blair.

The collections they’d conducted after she figured out her Dad had been cheating.

There was no doubt about it.

Something had truly upset Maka.

“I hope you two have been studying,” Sid began. He looked like a sick parody of the man that had lectured Soul on the importance of coursework and punctuality time and time again; his skin had gone from a deep tan to a dark blue, as if his entire body had been afflicted with frostbite. His clothes were filthy with mud, dirt and dead leaves, a simple tank top and jeans as if he’d just grabbed whatever was on hand and had been wearing them for three days straight, his hair similarly greasy with oil and muck.

His eyes were milky, clouded over so thoroughly that his iris and pupils were indistinguishable from the whites, his mouth stuck in a permanent snarl that bared every single one of his teeth, which slated against each other, almost audibly grinding every time he tensed his jaw and only barely parting as he spoke.

But the worst part of it all was the gaping hole in the middle of his forehead. Perfectly round like a black moon, Soul had no doubt that if he were to shine a flashlight into that dark circle, he would see the crushed brain matter that remained within Sid’s skull.

He hefted the tombstone, the upturn of his strained lips and his almost mischievous tone implying a sinister smile, “Because I won’t be going easy on you just because you were students of mine. I’ve always judged based on merit; that’s the kind of man I was.”

“Can’t say I find your “test” all that creative, Sid. Though then again, you did have a good chunk of your brain smashed into pulp,” Maka’s grip tightened as she carefully gauged the undead professor; their attempt to end the fight before it began had failed, his reaction too swift for either of them properly counter, and now a head on confrontation was inevitable, “In a way, it’s impressive that you’re even coherent, much less able to “teach.””

“Being dead alleviates many of the issues that come with living, Miss Albarn,” Sid explained with an almost casual air, “The frailties and flaws of the human body, for one thing. In fact, why don’t I give you a DEMONSTRATION!?”

He hadn’t even taken a proper stance. Sid simply lunged with a newfound, animalistic vigour, throwing himself forwards and upwards off the closest tombstone; he rose into the air, five feet, ten feet, nearly fifteen before he reached the apex of his arc, gripping the base of his tombstone and driving it down, descending towards Maka and Soul like a rocket.

Maka’s reaction was practiced and precise, shifting to the side right as the cross-shaped stone would have cracked open her skull; it struck the earth, sending a tremor up her legs and sending dirt and dust flying into the air, but she remained undeterred.

Instead, she spun, redoubling her grip and swinging Soul with deadly intent, aiming to strike Sid before he could regain his footing or retrieve his weapon from the dirt.

The Zombie, however, proved too agile; his hands gripped the base of the tombstone, and he spun with all the grace of an acrobat, easily dodging beneath the slash that would have removed his head entirely. His leg shot out, aiming to strike the Meister in the side.

This time, she raised Soul to block. Flesh and bone met steel with a resounding clang; Soul let out a breath, feeling the impact resound back and forth through his whole body. He was accustomed to high-force impacts at this point – he endured all sorts of slashes and blunt force trauma in Scythe form before, and even the occasional gunshot – but this was something else entirely.

The force behind the blow was enough to push Maka off her feet; she flipped backwards, easily landing on her feet once more.

A good thing, since Sid was already halfway through his next assault, roaring as he tore the tombstone from the earth in a spray of graveyard soil, forcing her to once again leap back to keep herself from being caught in the makeshift combination of smokescreen and hail of projectiles, each pebble flying forth with enough force to embed themselves in the trees as if they were bullets.

And once again, Sid was upon her, tombstone tucked under one arm as he drove a fist forwards, once again sending an almost painful, jarring crash through Soul as Maka blocked with his steel staff.

All of this occurred over the course of fifteen seconds.

If this was what Sid was like weakened from death, Soul did _not_ want to know what it would have been like to fight the man while he was still alive.

And yet, all the while, Maka’s typical clear focus was still missing; mentally, she was keeping up, but Soul could feel her frustration, how it caused missteps, however slight, that made it hard to counter the zombie’s relentless barrage. Back she danced over the graves, struggling to maintain her footing and counter Sid’s blows.

 _‘Maka,_ ’ Soul reached out, the voice of his mind and soul quiet, reverberating through his steel and into her palms, where he knew it would reach her.

She didn’t answer, taking a slash at Sid; Soul’s blade cleaved through one of the neighbouring graves, but did not find flesh.

_‘Maka, what’s wrong?’_

_‘Nothing’s wrong,’_ her response was not so much sound as it was raw sensation, like a vibration running up his spine; despite her words though, the snap of her tone betrayed her already fraying nerves, _‘I’m just_ peachy. _’_

 _‘You certainly don’t_ sound _peachy. Something’s throwing you off,’_ he noted.

 _‘I’m_ fine, _Soul,’_ she parried the heavy stone cross, finally managing to get in a strike to Sid’s shoulder, shoving him back; a brief flash of catharsis flooded her before the former teacher countered, delivering a spinning kick that forced the Scythe Meister to once again back off.

 _‘Come on, Maka, you’re not proving anything by being stubborn. Now is_ not _the time to get angry.’_

 _‘And it’s_ definitely _not the time for you to be distracting me, either!’_ she hissed, driving the Scythe down and launching herself up in a perfect vault, up and over the next swing of the tombstone; Maka then flipped, ripping Soul’s blade out of the earth and aiming to put it directly through Sid’s back.

He spun, blocking with his arm, a large cut opening across his forearm; no blood seeped from the wound, the muscles dark, almost desiccated… but even so, they _flexed,_ visibly expanding and contracting through the cut as Sid immediately transferred from defence to offense, from block into grapple.

Sid’s fingers closed around Soul’s handle before Maka could return to solid ground; the Weapon’s eyes widened, and Maka’s whole body went stiff with shock and dread before the zombie spun, swinging the pair around as easily as a pit-bull with a chew toy.

This time, Maka couldn’t catch herself, and Soul saw the same stars as her head cracked off one of the tombstones.

Even so, she held on, refusing to relinquish her grasp on her Weapon even as Sid spun to make another swing; this time, the Scythe Meister managed to get her feet back underneath her, her legs cushioning the blow against the tree. Her footing regained, she called out, _‘Soul!’_

 _‘I’m on it!’_ he acknowledged allowing himself to transform once more.

It was always a strange sensation, going from one physical form to the other. In his Soul, he was constantly standing at the edge of a pool of unfathomable depth and dark, ready to plunge himself in; he would dip his fingers into the shadows, and flesh and bone and nails immediately transformed into small blades of hard, sharp steel. If he stuck his entire arm into the pool, the heavy blade of his Scythe form would manifest in full.

And when he fully submerged himself, he found himself floating, weightless, staring up at the light of the surface, where images of the world beyond his Weapon form would play out like a film, the sensations of his physical body distant, filtered to him through a body of iron.

As easily as curling a muscle, Soul pulled himself free from the pool. The world’s vibrance returned to him; from the waist down, he remained in weapon form, Maka still keeping hold of the staff. Sid’s hand was wrapped tightly around his wrist, making him grit his teeth as he felt the zombie’s crushing grip shift the Weapon’s bones in his wrist mid swing… but all the same, he could sense the Zombie’s surprise, the faint shift in his dead facial features and the faltering of his movement just enough for Soul to take advantage of the opening.

He dipped his right arm back into the pool.

“Sorry to cut you off, teach,” he grinned, and slashed, everything past his elbow once more razor sharp steel.

Sid’s fingers uncurled; he pulled his hand back as quickly as he could, once more avoiding Soul’s blade.

But Maka had already regained her footing; she pushed forwards, shoving her Weapon forwards as if he were a spear, encouraging Soul to continue hacking, slashing, thrusting, forcing the zombie further and further back.

Sid grit his teeth, and dove.

The earth parted for him as if he were simply diving into water, the soil swallowing him and leaving no trace he had been there.

“… damn,” Maka growled, leaning on a gravestone, “Nearly had him.”

“He’s not gone,” Soul reminded her, “This isn’t over, not by a long shot. Think you can find him again?”

She shook her head, “The technique takes too long for me to use. If I were to try, it would leave us both open in a big way. I’m surprised he didn’t attack us earlier when I first tried it.”

“So he was following us?”

“Yeah. Seemed like he had been for a while, too.”

“Well, crap,” Soul sighed, settling back into his full Scythe form. He studied Maka, eyes narrowed, “You alright, Maka? You took some pretty good hits there.”

“I’m fine,” she breathed, straightening with a wince, “Bruised, but fine. I can keep going.”

“… if you’re sure,” he acquiesced, “But you’ve been off all night; your movement’s sloppy and your reactions are slower than usual. And I don’t think it’s just because we’re up against our dead teacher.”

Maka’s breath hitched, and he could feel her frustrations flare up again; she tightened her grip, immediately letting her eyes sweep the area once more.

“Look, I’m not asking you to talk about it,” Soul clarified, “Not now, not later. I know you don’t want to talk about it with me, and I’m not gonna make you. I’m just asking you to put it out of your mind for now. You know it isn’t going to help.”

Silence was the only answer he received from Maka. But, slowly, he heard her breaths begin to even out; her heart rate gradually began to slow, the beat becoming more consistent, and her acute infuriation dulled, fire reduced to embers.

Soul felt a smile tug at his lips.

It was a unique comfort, in a way, knowing that for however much she might snark, or however angry she might get with him, she was still willing to take his words to heart.

“… okay,” finally, her grip relaxed, a slow exhale slipping through her pursed lips, “Okay…”

 _‘… we’re on the back foot here,’_ Soul sent the thought through her palms, _‘Any ideas?’_

 _‘Not much, beyond pay attention,’_ Maka admitted, her words echoing in Soul’s head, _‘He’s got the advantage, and he knows it; we don’t know where he is, but he definitely knows where we are, provided he hasn’t gone after Black Star and Tsubaki.’_

 _‘You think he’s changed targets?’_ he inquired.

 _‘Not likely. He’s already gotten some good hits on us, like you said. It doesn’t make any sense for him to change targets now; any logical fighter would finish us off first rather than go for the other Weapon and Meister,’_ she squinted up into the trees, _‘Especially considering that we weren’t exactly quiet. We probably got Black Star’s and Tsubaki’s attention with that clash; they should be here before too long. Sid’s either going to attack again to finish us off before they get here, or run.’_

_‘So just stay on guard for now?’_

_‘It’s our best play,’_ once again, Maka sank into her ready stance, the ache in her head gradually beginning to subside, _‘Provided Black Star takes this seriously, he might be able to finish this off without much trouble. We just need to be patient and hope that Sid hasn’t chosen to retreat.’_

He nodded, knowing Maka would somehow sense the invisible motion; with that, he settled down, closing his eyes and focusing on the environment around them.

He saw everything that was coming in through Maka’s eyes; no longer were they focused on any one particular thing. Everything, even that which was in her peripheral vision, was now sharply detailed, her vision now able to focus on everything at once without issue.

A sound from beneath the ground. Less than five feet to their right.

There was no need for words; as the zombie burst once more from the ground, Meister and Weapon reacted as one.

The tombstone sailed harmlessly past Maka’s body as she sidestepped and swung, pivoting on the balls of her feet and shifting her hips, her hand sliding down the length of the Scythe; the iron staff caught Sid full in the chest, forcing him to stumble, the combined weight of his failed swing and the strike to his ribs forcing him off balance. The blow failed to break bone, Soul’s blade slipping harmlessly past Sid’s torso…

But that was what the two had wanted.

Soul’s sharp blade was now directly in line with the entirety of the zombie’s back.

Smiling grimly, Maka stepped back, grip on Soul firm; the Scythe’s blade became a sharp, heavy hook, biting into his back further pulling the already out of balance zombie even further off kilter. The tomestone hit the dirt, forgotten; Sid’s arms shot up to defend himself, crossing his face and chest on instinct.

“That won’t help you!” Maka shouted, jumping, twisting in midair, and driving both feet into Sid’s arms in a perfect drop kick, further driving the blade into dead flesh and bone.

Sid grit his teeth, then roared; he threw his arms out, the force of the movement dislodging the Scythe from his back and throwing Weapon and Meister into the air.

Gracefully, Maka flipped, and landed atop another grave, once more at the ready.

“… impressive, you two,” he acknowledged, once more taking up the heavy stone cross, “You were struggling through the first few minutes of the fight, but once you calmed down, your reaction was perfectly timed and impeccably executed. If I hadn’t been so tough while I was alive, that technique would have killed me outright.”

“You really are one tough bastard, Sid,” Soul said, “Dead or not, I’m surprised you’re still standing after that.”

“I wasn’t a Three Star Meister for nothing, Soul,” there was a smile in Sid’s tone again, “And like I said – being dead comes with its own set of benefits. Among them being able to ignore my wounds completely, and keep fighting!”

The zombie’s legs coiled, and he leaped, far, far higher into the air than before; he rose above the trees, arms outstretched over his head with the tombstone in hand, “The demonstration is over – time for you to apply it yourselves!”

As he reached the apex of his arc, he drove it down, diving, straight towards his students – far faster than he should have been able to, “A LIVING END!!!”

Through Maka’s eyes, Soul saw Sid’s Soul Wavelength pulse; it forced the air around him to ripple, brilliant violet light condensing into the heavy stone. An incredible amount of power was being poured into the grave.

Maka leaped, spinning as the zombie struck the ground, the tombstone driven directly where she had once stood; the stone erupted with power, the violet light turning a blinding white before it exploded outwards, a veritable lightning strike complete with deafening, rolling thunder that left both Meister and Weapon with ringing ears.

They were thrown backwards by the impact, Maka only catching herself by slamming Soul’s blade into the earth; even with that, however, she continued to skid backwards, blinded and disoriented from the attack.

_‘Maka!’_

_‘I know!’_

She closed her eyes, tugging her partner from the ground as she heard Sid take off again; she raised her arms to defend herself, Soul bracing for imapct-

“YAAAAHOOOOOOOO!”

Metal clashed on stone as Black Star’s voice echoed through the graveyard; slowly, Maka managed to blink the blindness away, and Soul gradually relaxed.

Sid’s tombstone now lay partially embedded in the dirt, the zombie’s hands still wrapped around its base; slowly, he turned his gaze up towards the trees.

Black Star gave a grin as he yanked back on the Kusarigama, catching the small scythes with a casual ease, “It’s about time you showed yourself, Sid. I was starting to get bored.”

“Ah, Black Star,” the teacher’s low voice drawled as he gripped the grave, and yanked it back out of the earth with a grunt, “Actually decided to show up for class alongside your partner, I see. A mild improvement over your usual behaviour, even if you are more than a little late.”

“You’re one to talk, you stupid zombie,” the ninja sneered, “I go to all the trouble of tracking you down, and here I find you playing with small fry. What, were you too afraid to come after the star of the show?”

“I pay close attention to my students, Black Star. That’s the kind of man I was,” Sid raised his head, a hand on his hip, “I thought I may as well get the more difficult evaluations out of the way. After all, it’s not hard to guess what your results are going to be.”

“Recognizing that I’ll pass with flying colours?” the blue haired Meister snickered, “Good to know you know greatness when you see it.”

“No, Black Star… I’m just resigned to the fact that I’ll never get to give you any grade higher than a D.”

With that, both Kusarigama flew from Black Star’s hands, each spinning directly for Sid’s chest, the chain extending far longer than it should have; the zombie deftly parried each blade, the tombstone dancing in his hands with ease that should not have come from such unwieldy stonework.

The small scythes embedded themselves in the gravestones to either side of the animated corpse; the chains pulled taut, and Black Star threw himself forwards, Tsubaki’s chain rapidly shrinking in length and reeling him in.

“What difference do the classes of a rotting corpse make to me!?” he shouted, “What do you have left to teach me, huh!?”

“Respect, for one thing,” Sid simply adjusted his stance, and swung his tombstone like a bat; Black Star’s feet collided with the stone, the impact creating an audible crack like a bullwhip; as the zombie followed through with his swing, Black Star was launched up into the air, his movements graceful, controlled as he once again yanked back on the chains, his sheer momentum enough to keep him from being pulled back down under his own strength.

Soul couldn’t hear it, but he knew that Black Star and Tsubaki had to be communicating, much like how he’d been communicating with Maka; the Kusarigama went taught, before the tombstones encasing them cracked, and came loose from the ground.

“Why should I show you any respect?! I’m the biggest star there’s ever going to be! Three Star Meister or not, you don’t even compare!” he swung both arms, the chains twisting in his grip like puppet strings, “I’m BLACK STAR!!!”

Each gravestone, harder than cinderblocks and far heavier, rocketed towards Sid from either side; he only had an instant to defend himself before they smashed together, shattering and sending a cloud of dust rising into the air, completely obscuring the ground where Sid had stood.

Black Star landed with an uncanny silence, his footfalls not making a single sound; he grinned, “That’ll teach you who’s getting a D tonight, you stupid-”

“Now look what you’ve done.”

Sid’s voice cut off Black Star with neither pain nor awe; as the dust slowly settled, he stood with his hands on his hips, staring down ruefully at the pile of rubble at his feet.

 _‘He must have used his tombstone as a springboard at the last second,’_ Maka murmured mentally.

 _‘Pretty agile for a guy who should be riddled with rigor mortis,’_ Soul agreed.

_‘That’s a Three Star Meister for you.’_

“You’ve gone and shattered not only Mr. Graham’s tombstone, but also Mr. Young’s and Ms. Verningham’s,” Sid shook his head, disappointment more than evident in his tone, “Don’t you know that when you fight, you need to _avoid_ causing collateral damage? You’re a Meister, for God’s sake, not a street thug.

“And you, Tsubaki! How could you go along with such a recklessly destructive plan? Do you have any idea how expensive it’s going to be for these peoples’ families to have their graves restored?”

“I-I’m sorry!” Tsubaki called, her tone panicked, “I was just so focused on helping Black Star-!”

“You don’t have to apologize to him, Tsubaki,” Black Star scowled, rising to his feet, “He’s just trying to distract you. Who cares about collateral damage in a fight?”

“ _You_ should,” Sid snapped, “As a fully fledged Weapon and Meister, any and all collateral damage that results from your actions is paid for directly out of your wages. The only reason that you haven’t had to worry about it so far is because you’re both technically still students – and believe me, I have been _sorely_ tempted to ask Lord Death to start cutting your allowance to help pay for some of the damage you’ve caused.”

 _‘He’s distracted. You got your footing back, Maka?’_ Soul queried.

 _‘Yeah, I’m good to go,’_ she nodded, glancing at his blade, eyes meeting his faint reflection, _‘You?’_

He grinned, _‘All good here. Let’s cut him in half.’_

“And what about you!?” Black Star spat, “You’re the guy who was swinging a tombstone around!”

“Out of _necessity,_ not convenience-”

Before another word could be uttered, Maka took off. Momentum carried Soul like a wave, driving him forwards with his blade gleaming in the moonlight.

He only barely caught Sid’s skin; the zombie had stepped back, his teeth grit as a deep red line opened up across his side.

“Interrupting me mid-lesson?” Sid chided, a note of amusement in his tone as he dodged another swipe of the Scythe, “I knew Soul was something of a delinquent, but I never took _you_ for a disruptive student, Maka.”

“ _You_ taught me to take every opportunity to end the fight, Sid!” she retorted, pivoting on her heel and swinging Soul back the other way, clicking her teeth as the Scythe’s tip only barely missed her target’s throat, “‘When you must fight, end it with one strike!’ That’s _your_ method!”

“Too true,” he grinned, “But I haven’t taught you everything!”

He stomped forwards, interrupting Maka’s forward assault with a well-placed strike with his palm, catching Soul just below the blade; on impact, his Soul Wavelength pulsed, repelling the Weapon and propelling the Meister back.

 _‘Dammit!’_ Maka raised the Scythe to defend herself, _‘Soul!’_

_‘I’ll be fine! That’s what I’m here for! Just don’t take any more hits!’_

Sid was moving faster now; he closed the distance with a ruthless speed, his hands flying faster than the tombstone ever had.

Ribs.

Solar Plexus.

Nose and mouth.

Throat.

Each strike was carefully aimed for the most vulnerable areas of the center of the body; they didn’t have the same force as the tombstone, but Soul and Maka both knew that they didn’t have to be. One didn’t need a metric ton of muscle mass or a strong Soul Wavelength in order to seriously damage the human body; all they needed was a decently fast punch and some idea of where to land their hits.

Now that he wasn’t hindered using a gravestone, it was clear that this was the entire basis of Sid’s fighting style, Weapon and Meister growing increasingly frantic in their defence just to keep up.

“Any time you want to _help,_ Black Star!” Maka snapped.

“I told you,” Black Star’s voice was a low hiss as he jumped, “Don’t tell me what to do!”

He threw the first of the Kusarigama once more; the chain wrapped around Sid’s left arm as he pulled back to throw another punch, pulling taut and stopping the next strike from following through.

But the ninja didn’t stop there; he kept rushing forwards, Tsubaki’s other blade gleaming with murderous intent, lunging outstretched like a claw…

Seizing her chance, Maka stomped forwards, swinging the Scythe with both hands; she pivoted on her feet, twisting her hips, her shoulders, her whole body, putting every ounce of force behind Soul’s blade that she could muster.

“… disappointing. You aren’t working together at all.”

Soul only had a fraction of a second to process Sid’s words before it all happened at once.

The zombie gripped Tsubaki’s chain, and pulled; Black Star, pulled off balance, was reeled in like a fish on the line, refusing to let go of the Weapon.

At the same time, Sid didn’t so much step as he did simply shift, almost shuffling to the side and out of the path of Maka’s swing; even so, he kept pulling on the chain, swinging Black Star almost as if he were a flail.

It was too fast for either Meister and Weapon pair to halt their respective assaults.

Soul felt his blade catch Black Star across the shoulders.

Tsubaki’s struck Maka in the stomach.

And then their bodies collided, both of them rolling across the dirt in a heap, coming to a stop at the base of a large tree.

“Maka!” Soul shouted.

“Black Star!” Tsubaki screamed.

“I-I’m okay,” Maka managed, her voice weak; Soul could feel the ache of her entire body, the struggle of her lungs to take air back in, the impact having winded her entirely.

Though her Soul Wavelength toughened her body to the point where she could shrug off the impact itself, Soul could still feel the open wound from Tsubaki’s blade. It was long and thin – thankfully, the strike had been glancing, so it wasn’t deep, but that didn’t mean the cut wasn’t painful.

Black Star grit his teeth, pushing himself up, “Ugh… yeah, that one hurt… what the _Hell_ was _that,_ Maka?!”

“ _Me!?_ ” she wheezed, finally managed to sit up, “ _You’re_ the one that got swung around like a ragdoll!”

Black Star turned, opening his mouth to shout, but a series of harsh footsteps shut him up before the argument could even begin; Tsubaki’s other blade hit the dirt with a harsh clank as Sid cast off the chain, staring down at the four with marked disapproval.

“You’re not making any effort to communicate with each other as a team,” he lectured, crossing his arms, “You swung from the same direction with too much momentum to stop yourselves. Not only did this give me an avenue of escape, it gave me the perfect opportunity to counter you both. A pincer attack like that is a viable strategy, but only with due consideration for both your target and for your team. A crossfire only works when you’re certain that you won’t hit your teammates.”

“ _Still_ lecturing us?” Black Star shakily rose to his feet; Tsubaki transformed, her chain and blades disappearing into a long dagger, the ninja unsteadily assuming another low stance.

“Once a teacher, always a teacher, Black Star,” Sid intoned.

Slowly, Maka pulled herself up, a hand on her stomach; she glared at Sid, once again raising Soul as best she could…

Only for Sid to turn away, “Class is over for tonight.”

“… what?” Soul asked.

“There’s no point in continuing the lesson as you are. Riled up and angry at each other, you’ll just keep making the same mistakes,” the zombie began walking away, “Reconsider your strategy and learn to work together. _Then_ we can continue the lesson.”

“… don’t you dare,” Black Star snarled, eyes glowing blue with murder, “Don’t you walk away from me!”

Sid ignored him, moving with a confident stride.

“YOU’RE NOT GOING ANYWHERE!” Black Star lunged, blade in hand-

Only for Sid to dive into the ground – a cloud of dust and an open hole being the only proof he was ever there.

Silence fell over the cemetery.

“… dammit,” Maka managed, finally doubling over from the pain, “He got away…”

Soul pulled himself from the dark pool, returning to human form; he wrapped an arm around Maka’s shoulders, “How’s your cut?”

“… bad,” she confessed, pulling her hand away from her stomach; her glove came away bloody.

“… I’m sorry.”

Soul raised his head; Tsubaki had transformed as well, and was looking over Black Star’s shoulders with marked concern. Eventually, she met Maka’s gaze, expression clearly remorseful.

“I’m sorry,” she repeated, “I at the very least could have tried to stop myself from cutting you…”

Maka gave a weak smile, “… it’s okay… I’m fine…”

“I’m sorry, too,” Soul sighed, taking in Black Star’s back; he could tell just from looking that his cut was far worse, longer, deeper, thin trails of blood seeping down his arms, “This was on all of us. Sid got away, and we all got hurt.”

Black Star scoffed, kneeling over the hole Sid disappeared into, “Saying ‘sorry’ isn’t gonna do much good. Doesn’t change what happened… I’m going after him.”

“… Black Star, we need to regroup,” Maka declared, taking a step, “There’s no way we’re gonna beat Sid without working together-”

“Speak for yourself, Maka.”

Black Star’s tone was harsh as he rolled his shoulders, glancing back at the Scythe Meister; his eyes were narrowed in a glare, fire burning deep within, “You might not be able to beat him on your own, but don’t you lump me in there with you. Tsubaki and I can beat him by ourselves.”

Maka grit her teeth; though the resonance was broken, Soul could still sense her temper as it fouled further, “You can’t brute force this. You’re strong, Black Star, but not nearly as strong as Sid.”

“Sid’s just a rotting corpse,” the blue haired boy affirmed, clenching a fist and looking away, “I’m the guy who’s gonna surpass God. There’s no contest.”

“Are you _hearing_ yourself?” Maka asked, incredulous, “You just got _trounced,_ and you’re _still_ insisting that you can beat him on your own!”

“I’m the strongest that there is!” Black Star snarled, turning to face her, “I’m not gonna give up over one little cut. Unlike _you._ ”

The Meisters glared at each other for a long moment.

“… that’s enough. Both of you.”

It was Tsubaki that spoke this time, tone stern as she cast her gaze upon them; it was only when she was certain that she had their full attention that she continued, “We’re hurt, we’re angry, and we’re tired. I hate to admit it, but Sid is right; even if we were to catch him, I don’t think we’d be able to beat him tonight.”

Black Star cocked an eyebrow, “You don’t think so, Tsubaki?”

“Black Star, I don’t doubt that you could power through that wound,” she gave a gentle smile, “I’ve seen you work through worse. But even if you chase after him now, he could literally be anywhere. He might even still be watching us right now. I think you know that if we go after him now, we may as well just be chasing our tails.”

“Besides,” Soul added, hoping his voice would add to Tsubaki’s reason, “Even if he didn’t have all sorts of hiding spots underground, he’s dead. He doesn’t react to pain, if he can even feel it – that in mind, I think it’s safe to assume he doesn’t feel fatigue, either. ‘Run and you’ll die tired’ doesn’t apply to him anymore. If anything, all he has to do is give us the run-around until we’re all exhausted, and then what?”

Black Star closed his eyes, chewing on his lip and clearly searching for a reason to insist on chasing Sid regardless. Eventually, though, when he opened his eyes again, they had returned to their normal deep green.

“… I hate giving up on a chase, but I suppose a good assassin always knows when it’s time to retreat,” he grumbled, folding his hands behind his head.

“That’s right,” Tsubaki agreed, approving.

“… good,” Maka sighed, her voice betraying relief, “Then we can all head back, treat our wounds, and discuss our next steps.”

Again, Black Star snorted, “Don’t get the wrong idea, Maka. You can’t tell me what to do. Tsubaki and I are going back, getting some sleep, and then we’re gonna do a search for all of the little hidey holes Sid might be using.”

“… seems a bit haphazard,” Maka noted, eyes narrowing again, “Don’t you think he’s liable to change location after tonight? Make us re-do our entire search?”

“Better than just doing nothing,” Black Star shrugged. Then he levelled his eyes at her once again, “But let’s get one thing straight. It doesn’t make any difference to me whether or not you tag along. You wanna give up? Fine by me. You wanna stick around?... then you don’t tell me what to do, and you stay out of my way.”

Soul could hear Maka’s teeth grind as Black Star turned away, hands stuffed in his pockets, “Come on, Tsubaki. We’re going home.”

Tsubaki shot one last “I’m sorry” back over her shoulder before moving to walk beside Black Star, the pair disappearing into the mist.

“… I hate him.”

Soul only spared a glance towards Maka, but one look at her pale green eyes was enough to know that the venom in her tone was real.

He didn’t try to placate her. He didn’t try to defend Black Star.

Instead, he gently rubbed her back, “You okay to walk?”

“… I think so,” she took a step, wincing, “… this trip back is gonna suck, isn’t it?”

“… here,” gently, he tugged on her arm, pulling it up and over his shoulder.

She blinked, surprised, but her expression finally softened back into a smile, “… thanks, Soul.”

“Hey, don’t mention it,” he felt the corners of his lips drift gently upwards as he led Maka back to the cemetery gates.

“That’s what partners are for, right?”

* * *

Luz couldn’t help but give a broad grin as she finally pencilled in the last of her math; with this, it was all done. The last of her homework, the whole year was finally over with, finals aside.

She glanced at the clock, “Just short of nine… and here I thought this was gonna take all night. I’m gonna have to thank Maka later.”

She perked up as knuckles rapped at her door.

“Luz? You alright?” Papi’s voice rang out, “You’ve been in there for a while.”

“I’m good,” she spun her chair to face the door, folding her hands in her lap, “Come in!”

The knob clicked, and Dad stepped in, another steaming ceramic mug in each hand, lips upturned in his usual easygoing smile as he offered the blue one, “That’s sure taken you a while. Need any help?”

“Just finished, actually!” she chirped, reaching out and gratefully accepting the mug, “Maka was a huge help; reminded me how algebra works.”

“Gave her a call, did you?”

“No, actually. She called me,” Luz took a sip, letting out a contented sigh, “… _Mami’s_ hot chocolate is the best…”

“So’s her coffee,” her father chuckled, idly swirling his own cup.

“Coffee?” Luz cocked an eyebrow, “Don’t you think it’s a little late for that?”

“Remember that I still have to drive tonight, Luz,” he raised a finger, “I gotta get back to my hotel, and I’d rather not fall asleep at the wheel.”

“I still don’t get why Mom won’t just let you stay the night,” she admitted, “We might not have a guest room, but we do have spare blankets and pillows. I’m pretty sure we have a roll up futon somewhere, and even if we don’t, you could at least take the couch.”

“That’s between your mother and I, Luz,” he sighed, finally starting his coffee, “Much as I’d love to stay here, your mother has drawn some lines I don’t want to cross. Especially since she has good reasons for drawing those lines in the first place.”

“… I guess that’s fair enough,” she conceded.

“… still, Maka called you?” it was Dad’s turn to cock an eyebrow, “Aren’t you the one usually calling her?”

“She just wanted to give me an update. From the sound of it, she’s got a tough two weeks ahead.”

“Oh?”

“Remember you told me about Sid?”

“I do,” he smirked, “I still think he’d be a favourite teacher of yours, if you ever met.”

“… about that,” she set her hot chocolate down, idly tapping her fingers as she bit her lip.

“… is something wrong?” he asked.

“… Dad, Maka said that Sid was murdered a few days ago… and that he might have been turned into a zombie?”

At this, Papi winced, his smile morphing into a grimace; he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, “So… you’ve heard about that, huh?”

“… is that what he called you about, earlier?” she ventured.

“It is,” he confirmed, “He didn’t want me to come back to Death City with any nasty surprises.”

“… which, when combined with the fact that the Grim Reaper sanctioned it… basically means this whole murder mystery Maka has been asked to solve is completely staged,” Luz rested her chin in her hands, elbows on her knees.

“… you always were pretty clever, Luz,” a melancholy smile crossed Dad’s face as he leaned back against the wall, “You were always able to figure out who the bad guy was in most mystery novels.”

“I can find all the clues to figure out a mystery, but can’t find the social cues to navigate a conversation to save my life,” she gave a slight chuckle, “Luz Noceda in a nutshell, I guess.”

“I know the feeling,” he mused, “But yes. Sid’s death wasn’t faked, so much as the circumstances around it were faked. He was murdered, yes, but if you were to ask him, Sid would say it was in the service of tutoring his struggling students – something he takes extraordinarily seriously.”

“So seriously, he’d let himself be turned into a _zombie?_ ” the perplexion in her tone was a perfect match for her visible confusion.

Papi shrugged, “That’s the kind of man he is, Luz. Or, was, rather. He prided himself in his honesty and in his dedication to being a teacher. When I asked him why, he said he just… didn’t want to lie to his students.”

Luz squinted, mouth slightly open as she struggled to process the absurdity behind her father’s words. After a moment, she leaned back in her seat, a hand pressed to her temple, “That… that’s just _absurd._ ”

“That’s what _I_ told him,” he raised his hands helplessly, “But I guess his principals are worth more to him than... well, being alive.”

“… I mean… on the one hand, props for dedication, but… on the other… you’d think his life would be worth a little more than that to him.”

“Black Star’s grades must be worse than I thought,” Dad muttered. Then, he smiled again, “Although, then again… the DWMA is full of off the wall people like that. Sid becoming a zombie is definitely one of the stranger things to happen, but he’s hardly the only teacher with such dedication to his students.”

At this, Luz’s smile returned, “Well, it _is_ better than any of the teachers _I’ve_ ever had... does he tutor?”

“Not normally, no,” he noted, “Buuuuuut, maybe I could talk him into it for your sake. He’s never one to turn down a prospective student who really wants to learn.”

She giggled, picking up her hot cocoa once again for a sip.

“… you realize I’m gonna have to ask you not to tell Maka the truth behind Sid’s murder.”

Both eyebrows climbed Luz’s forehead this time, “Why not?”

“Because, as much as I personally disagree with the extremes Sid has gone to, telling her would defeat the purpose of the lessons,” he pointed out, “Given that she’s working with Black Star on this, I’m assuming that the lessons are mostly intended to get Black Star to pull his head out of his butt and actually take things seriously – _and_ to get them used to working together as a team. Usually, Maka and Soul fly solo, but they’re almost finished their first year; before too much longer, they’re going to be expected to start performing joint operations with other Weapon and Meister pairs to take down more dangerous targets, so they’re getting a bit of a head start on their training in that regard.”

At this, she gave a sheepish smile, reaching back with her hand, “… well… might be a little late for that…”

He raised an eyebrow, silently asking for her to elaborate.

“… Maka called me to tell me about her lessons and ask me not to worry... she told me about Sid… I told her Sid called you…” she tapped her fingers together, taking a large swallow of hot chocolate, “And we might’ve… pooled our knowledge and put the clues together?...”

A long moment of silence passed before an exasperated, but thoroughly amused wheeze escaped Papi. He was clearly struggling not to laugh, his face morphing back and forth between stern stone and a broad grin, setting his cup down on her drawers to keep his coffee from spilling, his hand going to his forehead as laughter slowly won out.

It didn’t take long for Luz to join in, breaking down in a fit of giggles, kicking helplessly as her chair spun in place like a turtle on its back.

“A-At the very least,” she managed, “I-I didn’t figure it out u-until after I hung up… hoo… maybe Maka hasn’t put it together yet?”

“I… ha… I don’t know, Luz,” he let out a long, slow, but pleased sigh, “Maka’s a smart cookie. Depending on how she’s been spending her night, she might have figured it out already, too…”

“Is it really that big a deal, though?” Luz asked, “It’s not like Sid did a very good job of hiding his tracks.”

“I guess not,” he acknowledged, “If Maka has figured it out, then no big deal. If she hasn’t, then keep it to yourself.”

“Alright. Will do,” she nodded.

“… so. What were you going to do for the rest of the night?”

“Well, I was gonna check in with you again,” she began, “But, well, here you are.”

“Your Mom wants me out of here by ten, but that still leaves us with about an hour,” he glanced at the stack of paper on her desk, “… howsabout I look through your homework and check it over? Make sure it’s done right?”

She wrinkled her nose, “Is that really how you want to spend your time here?”

“Making sure my daughter gets good grades? Of course,” he smiled, “And then after…”

He stepped over to her computer, hitting the search bar and typing in four letters.

The game popped up, the heavy metal, heavy stone letters and dark orange glare causing Luz’s eyes to shimmer with delight.

Dad grinned, gesturing to the title screen, “Whaddya say about trying to teach an old man some new tricks?”

Luz immediately snatched up her homework, sifting through essays and worksheets to find her worst subjects. After a moment, she looked up at her father once more, “Where do we start?”

“Well, you _did_ just finish all your math… why don’t we start there?”

“Sounds good to me!”

* * *

Blair let out a yawn as she unlocked the window, her fingers flicking lazily; the window slid to the side as the screen popped out, letting her slip in with absolutely no difficulty, her floating jack-o lantern disappearing into thin air behind her.

“I spent my whole evening looking for places to work,” she mumbled, “Death City really is old fashioned in its construction… not a whole lot of places for me to use my usual skills, and I don’t really wanna go into accounting again.

“But at least I found that Chupacabra’s place,” she smiled, ears twitching as she removed her hat, spinning it off her finger and onto the couch, “It’s been a while since I worked as a bartender. Though I might need to practice making drinks again...”

She sank into the couch, kicking off her boots; much as she loved them, wearing heels for an extended amount of time, even if she wasn’t really doing much walking around, tended to get pretty uncomfortable.

“I’m hooooome~” she sang, stretching out her toes with a sigh of relief.

No answer.

“… Maka? Soul?”

When she still received no response, she frowned, glancing at the clock; it was well past seven, and the sun had long since descended past the horizon. The relatively small number of lights in Death City allowed the tapestry of stars above to shine and shimmer with their natural brilliance, the grinning moon casting its light over the crooked cobblestone streets.

“… they must be out late,” Blair murmured, pushing herself back to her feet despite the protests of her legs, “Didn’t Maka say that classes usually end by two?...”

She padded gracefully into the kitchen; there was no sign that anyone had been here since she’d left around noon. The frying pan she’d used for her fish was still in the sink, as was her plate…

“… I’m probably just worrying over nothing,” she sighed, turning on the hot water, “At the very least I can get these clean…”

Her ears twitched as the door opened; she couldn’t help but smile as she heard the telltale shuffling of two pairs of feet, the voices of her hosts muffled by the distance.

She pulled her hands out of the hot water, and stuck her head around the corner, “Goooood evening, you two-”

She stopped dead, golden eyes widening as she took in the sight; Maka was sitting on the chest cabinet against the wall, clutching her stomach, blood having seeped into the white of her shirt. Soul had the Tupperware of bandages in his hands, going through the supplies and only barely glancing up at her.

“Hi, Blair,” Maka raised a hand in a wave, wincing.

“Oh, _Titan,_ ” Blair hissed, immediately darting over, “Are you okay!? What happened!?”

“Got in a fight with a zombie,” Maka gave a weak smile.

“Maka’s stomach got cut,” Soul stated, his tone almost clinical as he pulled out the bandages.

“Then what are you two doing _here?_ ” Blair demanded.

The Meister and Weapon blinked, looking up at her as if she’d caught them off guard; Blair herself was surprised by her tone, by the scolding anger in her voice.

“I mean… shouldn’t you two be at the hospital?” she finally asked, doing her best to settle herself back down.

“… heh. Guess we forgot to tell you,” Soul’s expression softened into a gentle smile, looking back down into the packages of bandaids, “One of the first things we learn as DWMA students is first aid. We need to be able to determine how serious a wound is and treat it immediately.”

“Okay. And?” Blair asked, crossing her arms pointedly.

“I’ve already taken a look at Maka’s cut,” he gestured, “She’s gonna be feeling it for a few days, but it isn’t anywhere near as bad as it looks. The blood that’s seeped into her clothes is making it look like she’s bleeding more than she actually is; right now, we just need to disinfect it and get her some bandages.”

Blair bit her lip, once more looking to Maka; the Meister seemed uncomfortable, wincing every time she moved, but overall appeared relatively unconcerned. If anything, it seemed like her mind was elsewhere, grumbling every now and again under her breath about one thing or the other – her ruined shirt and stained gloves, and something about a black star.

“… may I take a look?”

“Hm?” Maka perked up, eyes suddenly fixed on the cat.

“Your cut,” Blair emphasized, pointing at the bloody shirt, “May I take a look?”

Maka’s eyes narrowed and her lips pursed, but a glance from Soul was all it took to get her to calm. She let out a long suffering sigh, pulling her hand from her stomach, “Fine. Go ahead…”

Cautiously, Blair knelt, parting the shredded fabric to get a look at the wound; the dark red line was long and jagged, almost more of a gouge than an actual cut, like something left by a claw. The blood around it had already dried, flaking off Maka’s skin like old scales; the cat gently ran her finger along its edge, and let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding as she realized just how shallow it was.

“Just a little more than skin deep,” she glanced up at Maka, “I still think you two should have gone straight to the hospital instead of coming back here.”

“We know what we’re doing, Blair,” Maka assured, letting herself rest against the wall, “The cut’s not that bad.”

“But what if it was?” Blair insisted, “Would you still have come straight here?”

“Of course not,” Soul finally pulled a bandage roll from the packaging, rising to his feet, “Have a little more faith in our judgement. We’re young, not stupid.”

She let out a hum, looking back down at Maka’s cut; after a moment, she gently pressed her palm to the surface of the wound.

“Hey, whoa, wait,” Maka’s hand wrapped around Blair’s wrist, “What’re you-”

“Just hold still for a moment,” Blair instructed, tone stern as she closed her eyes, reaching for her Soul Wavelength; she could see her own Souls, all a mix of deep violet and flaming orange, their Wavelengths perfectly unified.

 _‘Just need the one,’_ she thought, focusing on one Soul; the Wavelength pulsed through her palms, turning from a cascading collision of purple and orange to a vibrant green, “Pum-Pumpkin, Pumpkin…”

She opened her eyes; as expected, forest green energy flowed from her hand and into Maka’s skin. Beneath her palm, she could feel the wound slowly knit itself back together, the skin healing over milimeter by milimeter.

When she pulled her hand away a moment later, the cut was gone.

Maka blinked, pulling off her glove and feeling her stomach to be sure; a scar had been left behind, as Blair had expected, but the wound itself had completely disappeared, not a hint of red to be seen.

“… you healed me,” she murmured, meeting Blair’s eyes in a mix of wonder and confusion.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” the cat asked, still stern, “Any injuries to your head?”

“… I took a couple of bumps,” Maka admitted, “But no blood, no dilated pupils.”

“No wooziness? No difficulty with balance or memory?”

“I already checked,” Soul confirmed, “Maka has no signs of a concussion.”

“Okay,” Blair rose to her feet, dusting off her hands before turning to the Scythe, “And what about you?”

He chuckled, raising his arms to display several small splotches of purple, “Couple of bruises, but nothing serious. Should be gone by morning.”

“… if you’re both sure,” she crossed her arms, “But I still think you two should be heading straight to bed. Maka especially; my spell healed the cut, but you still lost some blood. I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re feeling lightheaded for the rest of the night.”

“Trust me,” Maka pushed herself up, testing her range of motion; there was still a slight wince when she twisted too far one way or the other, but the Meister was clearly enamoured with how much movement had returned to her, “We’re not doing anything else that’s strenuous tonight. We’re eating and going straight to bed.”

Finally, Blair gave another smile, “I can cook for you, if you want.”

“Oh, come on, Blair,” Soul laughed, “We’re a little beaten up, not invalids. We’re cool enough to look after ourselves.”

“Alright, alright,” she conceded, “But I’m holding you both to that. You only have one Soul each, after all, and I don’t think I can lend you any of mine.”

“Technically, you already have,” Maka snarked.

“Ha ha,” the cat turned, and padded away.

“… well, can’t say I was expecting that,” Soul stated, clearly thinking Blair was out of earshot.

“Me either,” Maka confessed.

“… think it’s enough reason to let her stay?”

“… well, she could save a fortune on bandaids; those are expensive.”

“Heh… is that a yes?”

“Don’t push it.”

Blair’s smile widened as Soul’s chuckle followed her down the hall. She glanced back out into the night sky, her chin in her hand.

“I’ll have to ask them what they were up to in the morning…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY, AN ACTUAL FIGHT SCENE.
> 
> And more serious Blair, yaaaaay!
> 
> Okay, so this is probably the last chapter of strict setup for Luz; next chapter I intend to actually get to Stein at the very least, if not wrap things up with him outright so we can finally get into the Boiling Isles proper.
> 
> Or at least that's what I hope. You can never guarantee these things until you've actually written them out, you know?
> 
> Thank you all for reading and for your patience and understanding with me. Let me know what you think! I hope you all enjoyed the sixth chapter of Owls and Souls, Witches and Resonance!


	8. First Steps Taken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Soul Eater or Owl House.
> 
> If I did, I'd probably have more regular updates... sorry, everyone.

“Thank you for again restoring my body, Doctor Stein,” Sid flexed his arm, testing the sensation of the movement; the muscles and joints themselves still felt sluggish, but the cuts in his arm, side and back had been completely sealed.

Though he hadn’t felt any pain from the wounds, per se, he knew that every hit he took would decrease the physical integrity of his body – among the many downsides of being dead, one of the glaring issues was that he could no longer heal on his own anymore.

The innumerable tiny stitches, however, each imbued with Soul Wavelength, were doing their job remarkably well; designed to bind flesh together and then slowly disappear, Sid could feel the muscles and skin as they gradually fused back into one piece, the cuts fading as if they were healing naturally of their own accord.

“Don’t,” his companion’s tone was completely disinterested, the clicks of the keyboard and the low hum of the furnace below providing the only ambience of the darkened laboratory. He stared into the computer screen – the only source of light in the room, the lights off as they always were whenever Sid frequented the premises – with his eyes in a squint and his cigarette burnt down to a mere nub between his teeth, “I’m not doing this as a favour to you or to be nice. I’m doing this because it’s my job. You shouldn’t thank me for just fulfilling an obligation, Sid.”

“You have an odd view of how gratitude should work,” Sid noted disapprovingly, crossing his arms, “Obligation or not, you are still maintaining my body’s ability to function at peak condition for effectively no charge – you don’t think I should be at least a little thankful?”

“No,” the finality in the doctor’s tone was more than enough for Sid to know he had no intention of elaborating.

“… well. You have your principles, and I have mine,” Sid smiled as best he could, “And my principles include thanking someone when they help me, regardless of the reasoning for it.”

“I’m not going to debate this with you,” he reached up to the top of the screw in his head, turning it; it lightly clicked as it spun in place, once with every millimeter, making it sound less like the rotation of a gear and more like the turn of a ratchet wrench, “What is your impression of the students so far? Are they faring well in the lesson?”

“About as well as I expected, unfortunately,” Sid sighed, “As a pair, Maka and Soul work together remarkably well. It’s no wonder they managed to reach ninety nine Kishin Egg Souls so quickly, even considering they were working off of low level, One Star assignments against targets that had relatively low threat levels. They are easily among the best Weapon and Meister pairs in their year – Maka shines both in the field and as an academic, and despite Soul’s insistence on only doing half of what he’s really capable of on his essays and worksheets, he excels in his actual performance as a Weapon. They are yet to perform a proper Soul Resonance, but they’ve already laid the groundwork for a truly incredible partnership.”

“I’m sensing a ‘but,’” the doctor did not look up from his computer screen.

“I’m getting to that,” the zombie assured, “On the other hand, we have Black Star and Tsubaki, who you’ve already heard about. They’re the reason these lessons were made in the first place. Black Star is one of the most physically capable and hardworking students I have ever seen, but has proven time and time again that he is his own worst enemy. He’s capable of using multiple kinds of weapons and martial art forms, but his sheer refusal to take his missions seriously renders his skills entirely moot, and I can’t say I’ve _ever_ seen a student perform as poorly from an academic standpoint.

“And as for Tsubaki, she’s every bit as capable as her partner physically and has a fairly impressive academic record; she doesn’t perform on tests and essays quite as well as Maka, but her grades aren’t exactly what I would call middling, either. Unfortunately, she’s held back by the exact thing that makes her compatible with Black Star to begin with; she’s far too demure and patient, letting Black Star get his own way at essentially every turn.”

“Hmmm,” he scratched at the back of his head, closing his eyes and leaning back in his chair, causing it to creak.

“… I don’t know how you can work at your computer in the dark like this,” Sid shook his head, “You’re killing your eyes, you know.”

“I just can’t seem to get my head on straight,” he muttered, not seeming to really be listening anymore as he once again adjusted the screw. Then, he snapped up, spinning in place and staring right at the zombie, the glare of the screen illuminating his glasses in the dark, “And as a team, Sid? How do our student pairs perform together?”

“… again, about as well as I’d expected, but not as well as I’d hoped. I was hoping that Tsubaki’s calm nature and Soul’s friendship with Black Star would be enough to get them to work together at least somewhat amicably. Instead, Black Star and Maka are at each others’ throats.”

More clicking as the doctor continued rotating the screw, back and forth, trying to find the perfect spot.

“Black Star refuses to concede any autonomy to Maka, and Maka isn’t willing to bend to Black Star’s selfish demands. They’re at an impasse, and if I hadn’t left when I did, I suspect they would have begun attacking each other,” Sid gestured towards his accomplice, “If you have any ideas, I would love to hear them.”

The clicking finally stopped; the doctor’s hand fell to his mouth, taking out what was left of the cigarette and flicking it into the nearby ashtray with perfect aim, despite not even inclining his head.

Slowly, he sank forwards, head dipping sideways to rest in his palm, grey-green eyes narrowed in the shadows.

“I think,” he began, his words slow, deliberate, “that your solution may be a little more obvious than you realize.”

* * *

“How’s your stomach?”

Maka glanced up from her notebook as she and Soul retraced their steps to the Hook Cemetery; the sun was still in the east, slowly making its way over the dunes and casting long shadows across Death City.

Soul was in his usual hunched posture, his eyes half lidded beneath his headband, but even behind that, Maka could sense the concern.

“Fine, actually,” she returned her attention to her notes, “Stings a little when I twist too much left or right, or when I lean too far back, but beyond that, it’s like I was never cut.”

“Cool,” he bobbed his head, letting his gaze fall back down to the cobblestones, “Guess Blair really does know what she’s doing.”

“One upside to having a moocher, I guess,” she muttered.

Soul just chuckled, before sobering, “So… what’s the plan now? Our first and best shot at catching Sid pretty much went up in smoke.”

“Which is why we’re heading back to the Cemetery,” Maka stated, “I might not be able to work that well with Black Star, but I can at least work with Tsubaki to try and track Sid down.”

“Okay, but what if he’s relocated? You saw how he just pops in and out of the ground; he’s not likely to have left much of a trail.”

“Maybe not. But that’s what patience is for. We know he’s been targeting DWMA students even before we got involved, and that he hasn’t bothered waiting to return to full strength; it’s likely that he’ll make another move before long and give us another place to start looking,” she snapped the book shut, tucking it into her longcoat, “Alternatively, if we’re lucky, we won’t have to look for him at all.”

Soul cocked his head, “What, you think he’ll come for us directly?”

“I think it’s more than a little likely, given what I read in the reports. Lots of obvious stalking behaviour before he attacks, and we’ve made ourselves pretty big targets,” Maka brought a hand to her chin, frowning, “… but then…”

“… but then… what?” he asked.

Her jaw tightened as she thought back to her conversation with Luz; the more she thought about it, the less she liked where the situation seemed to be going.

“Maka?”

“… never mind,” she shook her head, “It’s nothing.”

“You sure? You’ve been out of it since yesterday.”

“Soul…”

“Maka,” he stopped, turning to face her, “You _know_ I’m not asking you to talk about it. Have I ever pushed my luck like that?”

She bristled, a strange, defensive outrage welling up in her stomach and urging her to somehow counter.

But all the same Maka knew Soul wasn’t being malicious; if anything, he had every reason to be concerned. And why shouldn’t he be? He was her partner, her Weapon. Every time he transformed, every time she held him in her hands, he knew every emotion that flooded her being.

She might not have told him any of her secrets, but he had grown accustomed to her moods and could guess, roughly, at what caused them; in a way, he knew her better than anyone else did.

Reason won out, and slowly, she closed her eyes, exhaling through her nose, “… no. You’re not exactly what I’d call nosy.”

He nodded, “I get it. There are things I don’t like talking about either, and this strikes me as something personal. I’m not gonna pry.

“But by the same token, you’ve got to get out of this slump. Last night, we got our asses kicked.”

“Hey, I pulled myself together,” she huffed.

“ _After_ our first exchange with Sid,” he countered, “And even then, I could still feel your frustration throughout the rest of the fight.”

Again, that perplexing outrage, and with it the conflict between superego and id, the stream of angry accusations and insults rising in her throat being held down by the idea of how ridiculous it would be for her to give in… and by the knowledge that Soul, ultimately, was right. No matter how much it stung to admit to herself.

“Sid’s only going to get stronger and more difficult to fight the longer it takes us to find and beat him,” Soul intoned, “If you can’t get your head in the game, we’re just gonna get creamed again.”

“… game, huh?” she muttered.

He raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to elaborate.

“… just… nevermind,” she shook her head, taking another breath as she tapped the sides of her face, “You’re right. I gotta focus on our mission. Everything else has to come second.”

She redoubled her pace, continuing down the street…

“… Maka?”

Once again, she stopped, turning to look at her partner.

The same concerned look she seemed to be getting more and more of from him had once again overtaken his features – the gentle scepticism of his narrowed eyes, the downturn of the corners of his mouth, even the slight shift in his usual slouch.

“… I’m still not gonna ask,” he assured, “But… you _do_ know you can talk to me, right?”

This time, the question gave her pause; she stood, silent, trying to gauge the emotions swirling behind his crimson eyes, faintly infuriated by how _good_ he was at hiding his thoughts and feelings…

“… of course I do,” she settled, smiling, “You’re my partner, Soul. I can talk to you, and you can talk to me. That’s how it’s supposed to work, isn’t it?”

He studied her for a long moment before smiling in turn, “Whatever you say, Maka.”

She blinked, caught off guard by the accusation before once again bristling with indignant rage, “And what’s _that_ supposed to mean?”

He just chuckled again, starting forwards once more.

Maka let out a frustrated growl before she turned on her heel and moved to keep ahead of him, nose turned up in the air, unwilling to let him win.

After a moment, however, she felt her head dip down, her body growing heavy.

Of course Maka knew she could talk to him. That wasn’t the real question.

The real question, in Maka’s mind at least, was whether or not she should.

* * *

“So, what exactly is Maka up against, _Papi?_ ”

Spirit glanced at his daughter as she leaned against the wall; the music and general yammering of the crowd would have made it difficult to hear anyone else, but Luz’s lung capacity and vocal range had always been, to say the very least, impressive. It was a handy tool in settings like the line-up of a movie theatre, allowing her to make herself heard in all but the loudest of environments.

Unfortunately, being naturally loud came with its fair share of challenges. Even today, Luz still struggled with the concept of volume control, especially when she was excited; when paired with an exceptionally excitable personality that could find joy in nearly anything, and you had someone who could very easily dominate a conversation without meaning to, as well as accidentally earn herself several suspensions from the local library over the years.

A shame, too; from the Death Scythe’s understanding, the librarians genuinely loved Luz, but couldn’t afford to give her any more free passes for being disruptively loud.

“Not all that much, aside from Sid,” the Weapon stated, “He’s a Three Star Meister, and even among them a pretty tough customer. But they shouldn’t be fighting anyone or anything else – Sid won’t even be using his Weapon partner.”

“So, just the teacher turned _caminando muerto,_ then?”

“Yeah, that should be it,” he confirmed, “Unless Stein decides to throw some sort of wrench into the plan…”

At this, Luz winced, biting her lip and breaking her gaze with her arms wrapping around her stomach – the clear picture of a child wrapped in the throes of guilt.

Spirit felt his heart wilt, reaching out to place a hand on her shoulder, “Luz… it’s alright. You didn’t know, right?”

“… right,” she sighed, “But-”

“But nothing,” he urged, “What happened yesterday is nobody’s fault. Honestly, I should’ve just muted Sid’s call and gotten back to him later.”

“… okay.”

It was obvious she wasn’t convinced; a feeling he knew all too well.

He pulled away, debating whether or not he should say anything more before throwing caution to the wind, “… he was my partner.”

At this, Luz’s head snapped up, blinking rapidly as she met his eyes once again, “What?”

“Stein,” he elaborated, “He was my Meister when I first enrolled at the DWMA.”

She blinked again – then slowly, her brow creased, eyes narrowed, “But I thought your partner was Maka’s Mom?”

“Ah, but that’s the tricky part, isn’t it?” he smirked, “I said when I _first_ enrolled at the DWMA. I didn’t say Stein was my partner for my entire time as a student there.”

She let out a playful growl of faux annoyance, “Uuuugh, you’re so tricky!”

“Always expect the unexpected, young grasshoppa,” he chuckled, “But yeah. Stein and I worked together for about two years before I met Makoto, and it would be another four before I changed partners.”

This time, there was a noticeable pause before Luz responded, hesitation thick in her tone, “… and I’m assuming it wasn’t just because you felt like shaking things up.”

“It wasn’t,” despite his best efforts, he wasn’t able to keep all of the tired anxiety out of his voice, “See… working with Stein… wasn’t exactly the safest thing. Normally, when Meisters and Weapons join the Academy, they’re allowed to mingle with each other – figure out who makes a good match with who naturally, letting students filter each other out and partner up of their own accord. Not so with me and Stein; I was specifically asked to be his partner because I was the only one who could reign him in.”

“‘Reign him in…’ as in he liked to party…?” she ventured, contrite hope in her words that this wasn’t going where she thought it was.

“‘Reign him in,’ as in he’d frequently abuse his position as a Meister to do whatever he wanted – and whenever anyone else tried to get him to stop, he’d get violent with them,” the Death Scythe gestured to himself, “I was the only one he seemed to be willing to listen to.”

“… that’s what I was afraid of…” she squeaked.

“Stein was a truly brilliant Meister, Luz. Frighteningly so, in fact – he was frighteningly skilled, frighteningly intelligent, and he had a frightening capacity for violence,” Spirit crossed his arms, recalling the constant back and forth Stein displayed –between a marked disinterest for everything around him and the wide, manic grins whenever something managed to catch his attention, “I don’t know what it was about me specifically that got him to settle down, but I managed to get him to follow the rules at least somewhat. For a long time, I even thought I managed to get through to him on a level no one else had. I thought we were friends.”

“Well… weren’t you?” she asked, “Don’t you have to have a strong personal connection with someone to be able to perform even a Basic Resonance?”

“It turned out Stein had a different definition of ‘friends’ than I did,” the Weapon’s grip on his arms tightened, “Stein has a pathological need to take things apart. He can’t help it. It’s the main thing that drives him, both as a scientist and as a person. Taking things apart to see how they work… and I was no exception.”

“… oh.”

Spirit almost hadn’t heard it, Luz was so quiet… not that she needed to say anything; her silence would have spoken volumes all on its own.

“After I found out about it, Makoto and I made arrangements to transfer my partnership,” he finished, letting his gaze drift up into the rafters overhead, “By then, Stein had mildly better self control, and was a skilled enough fighter that he honestly didn’t _need_ a Weapon in most situations. I didn’t really see him much, after that.”

“… his wiki page said he graduated at seventeen,” Luz murmured.

“A full year earlier than I did, yeah. He went on to take programs at specialized DWMA facilities, and… well, I haven’t seen him in almost twenty years, now,” he sighed, his eyes falling closed.

“… _Papi?_... are you okay?”

He let one eye open slightly, lips curling upwards, “Why wouldn’t I be okay, Luz?”

Her brows arched gently upwards, her mouth dipping down at the edges as she studied him, almost seeming to stare into his Soul; if he didn’t know better, he’d have said she could see it, peering into him with a startling clarity.

“… you just… you sound sad, talking about him.”

His thoughts came to a halt as he processed Luz’s words; the wistful melancholy hung suspended in his chest alongside a sharp sensation akin to shock, as if this were the first time he was really noticing the emotion, truly processing what it was that thoughts of old partner summoned.

Fear? There was definitely fear, looking back on those days, but not nearly as much as he thought.

Anger? To his surprise, no. If there was any anger, it was a distant, peripheral sensation, tertiary to everything else.

No, what he felt, more than anything else, was disappointment. Bitter, bitter disappointment in the man he thought he had managed to reach, that settled into a strange, heavy remorse.

“… _Papi?_ ”

Luz’s finger pressed into his cheek, bringing him back to reality; gently, he reached up, and guided her finger away from his face.

“Careful,” he teased, “Try that with another Weapon, and they might bite that finger.”

She smiled, though the concern in her eyes did not abate, “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”

“Good. You excited to see a movie?”

“Sure am!” she brightened… only for it to falter, “… just one last question… okay, two more questions.”

“Fire away,” he nodded, though he felt his shoulders tense of their own accord.

“… first off… why are you telling me this?”

He blinked, “Because you asked.”

“But isn’t this super personal?” Luz persisted, “Going off your reaction yesterday, I thought you wouldn’t want to talk about it at all.”

“Well…” he shrugged, “I figure you at least deserve honesty from me, Luz. And I trust you to keep this to yourself; you might not be that good with social cues, but you know that there are some things that you don’t talk about with just anyone.”

“Alright...” she mumbled.

“And your other question?”

“… you’re not just… telling me all this to make me feel better, are you?”

Spirit’s heart leaped into his throat, panic making his mind race even as he forced his features to remain firmly in place, still as stone, “What gave you that idea?”

The half lidded, deadpan stare that the Death Scythe received would have impressed even Maka, Luz’s arms crossing as she leaned to one side, “Dad, I’m not great with social cues, but even I can tell when someone is trying to humour me or make me feel better.”

The racing of his mind rose to an internal scream as he did his best to keep his smile in place, the corners of his mouth slipping ever so slightly, “Well, I guess it’s a good thing I’m not just humouring you then!”

“You sure?” she pressed.

“Absolutely,” he nodded.

“You’re actually fine talking about this and not just trying to get me to not worry?”

“… yes,” he finally said.

 _‘Buy it, buy it, buy it, buy it,’_ he prayed, _‘For the love of God,_ please _buy it!’_

She squinted at him, a low hum reverberating through her throat as she cupped her chin, clearly cross examining him; for a long moment, Spirit thought she would accuse him of lying…

… only for a relieved smile to break out across her face.

“I’m glad,” even with the noise of the room around them, Luz’s words still cascaded across him loud and clear, pure and wholehearted, “ _Gracias, Papi._ ”

The Death Scythe was glad for the thrum of the crowd around them, hiding his sigh of relief as he finally relaxed, “ _Siempre, Corazoncita._ ”

 _‘Crisis averted,’_ he thought, all the tension falling from his shoulders at once as he finally stepped up to the snack counter, _‘Though we_ really _need to do something about those low Insight checks…’_

* * *

“Took you two long enough to show up.”

Maka let out a harsh snort at the high-pitched sneer on the cobblestone archway above above; Black Star grinned down from atop the wrought iron cemetery gate, Tsubaki at his side, “I thought you’d given up.”

“And let Tsubaki fail on your account?” she snapped, “Fat chance, Black Star.”

“So, what’s new?” Soul asked, interrupting before the cycle could begin, “Find any trace of Sid?”

“Nope,” Black Star jumped down, the only sound of exertion upon landing being the slight breath as a heavy thud reverberated through the ground.

Tsubaki’s landing was far more graceful, patting out her dress as she elaborated, “We tried to follow his various tunnels, but most of them have collapsed. Whether this happened right after he made them or sometime during the night, we can’t tell.”

“Well, that figures,” Maka grumbled, crossing her arms, “Guess we really are back to square one if he doesn’t attack us… unless you found any other clues as to where he might’ve gone?”

Black Star turned up his nose, closing his eyes, “Nah. I took a pretty good look around, but it doesn’t look like Sid dropped anything we can use.”

“What about what’s left of the tunnels?” Soul ventured, “If he travelled underground, he wouldn’t have to account for streets and such, he could make a beeline straight for wherever he was going.”

“Not necessarily,” Tsubaki noted, “He’d still have to account for all the underground infrastructure – namely, the sewer systems, electrical lines and water mains. To ignore all that completely, he would have to have dug straight down quite a distance, and what was left of the tunnels didn’t go down that deep before they curved or collapsed.”

“And we don’t have a map of Death City’s underground systems either,” Maka growled, rubbing her brow, “This is why I hate targets that can burrow or fly. Tracking them becomes so much more of a hassle.”

“We’ll make do,” Soul assured, his cocky, calming smile in place as he looked from one person to the next eyes half lidded.

“We’ve still got thirteen days; it’s not like we’re up against something we can’t handle. For now, let’s just keep looking.”

* * *

“Oooooh, no! They say he’s got to go! Go Go, Godzilla!”

The Death Scythe grinned as Luz pumped her arms to the beat of the song, even though it had long since ceased playing even in the theatre behind them, “You know, I never thought I’d actually hear that song get covered, much less that it would be done by a full orchestra with choir.”

“But would you have it done any other way?” she asked, her own grin as broad as he’d ever seen it.

“Nope,” he chuckled, “Can’t say I would.”

“Didn’t think so,” she laughed, then sighed, content as she dug into the back for more popcorn, “So… back home for today?”

“I think so, yeah,” Spirit nodded, “You still need to do your studies for today.”

“Alright. And tomorrow?”

“Well, what do you want to do?”

“Come _on, Papi,_ ” she turned on her heel, walking backwards to look him in the eye, “ _¡_ _He elego los últimos dos dias!_ ”

“ _¿Y?_ ” he asked, cocking an eyebrow, “ _Estoy aquí para pasar tiempo contigo. Ya estoy hacienda lo que quiero solo por estar contigo._ ”

Luz let out a growl of mock annoyance as she spun back around, raking a hand through her hair with a barely restrained smile, “ _Eres imposible._ ”

“ _Lo intento,_ ” he shrugged.

“… but seriously,” she glanced up, “Is there _anything_ you want to do while you’re here? There’s gotta be _something_ you don’t get to do in Death City other than see me.”

He glanced out the window as they descended the escalator; in the distance, what looked like a train track arced up into the air high above a carnival, the crowds bustling below in a sea of cascading colours. After a moment, the cars rushed up the track with incredible speed…

“… weeeeellll,” he drawled, “It’s been a while since I’ve set foot in an amusement park…”

Luz stared up at him, eyes wide, “Are we gonna win tickets?”

“Oh, Luz,” he smiled, mischief abound in his tone, “We are gonna win _all_ the tickets.”

* * *

Soul was quickly finding himself regretting his choice of words.

Sid’s house, of course, was devoid of any evidence anyone had lived there beyond the absolutely ransacked furniture, and even then, there hadn’t been much to ransack; the professor had evidently lived a fairly Spartan lifestyle, his amenities sparse and streamlined.

His number of haunts was equally sparse; he didn’t seem to frequent bars or restaurants at all, and in fact only seemed to rarely leave school grounds. Going off what they had all learned, Sid practically _lived_ in the DWMA, spending more nights in his classroom than he did in the comfort of his home.

The only place he ever really seemed to visit during his free time that wasn’t on school grounds… was Hook Cemetery itself.

And so, once again, they all stood waiting amidst the gravestones.

“Uuuuuuugh, this _sucks,_ ” Black Star bemoaned, kicking a rock at one of the nearby trees; it bounced back, rolling to a stop near his feet, prompting him to kick it again in some small imitation of soccer.

“Don’t do stakeouts very often, do you?” Maka asked wryly, her eyes unfocused as her head drifted back and forth on a swivel.

“We’re waiting for a guy who might not even show up,” he growled, “We should be outta here already!”

“Doing what?” Soul sighed, hands stuffed in his coat, “We can’t just wander around randomly or we’ll _never_ find him.”

“Black Star, the chances of Sid coming back at some point are actually fairly high,” Tsubaki noted, “Even if it isn’t tonight, this place seems to hold some significance to him. That, combined with his deliberate targeting of Academy students, means he probably won’t lay low for more than a day or two.”

“Making a big star like me waste my time like this,” he grumbled, kicking the rock so hard it embedded itself in the bark, “Who does he think he is?!”

“… still no luck, Maka?” Soul asked.

“No. I’m not seeing anything,” she kept her gaze moving back and forth, “It doesn’t help that I can’t see very far beneath the ground, either…”

“Well, that’s just great,” Black Star crossed his arms, “You really _are_ useless.”

“I’m not seeing _you_ helping,” Maka snapped, “Oh, wait, that’s right, you _can’t._ You’re the worst person at sensing Souls here.”

“Hey, if I really wanted to, my sixth sense could beat yours any day of the week!”

“Yeah? So why doesn’t it?”

“Because I feel bad for you, Maka,” he folded his arms behind his head, “It must really suck only being good for sensing things.”

Her grip on her arms tightened, her eyes snapping back into focus, “… you know, I _was_ going to ask how that cut on your back was healing. But you know what? I’m not gonna. You _deserved_ that.”

“It’s healed up perfectly fine anyways,” Black Star sneered, “Not like you could do any real damage-”

“Okay, that’s _enough._ ”

Soul stalked between them, breaking their eye contact as his glare swept from one Meister to the other.

“Tsubaki and I have had to play mediator more than enough over the past forty eight hours,” he intoned, an unusual authority adding to the weight behind his words, “I know that you don’t like each other, but we don’t have the time or the energy to keep managing you two or to work through the issue. We have a job to do-”

The sound of dry earth shifting.

Of dead roots snapping.

Maka and Black Star immediately jumped, each leaping for their Weapons; Soul and Tsubaki were already in motion by the time their Meisters reached them, the Scythe plunging himself back into the dark pool in a flash of light, Maka’s hands a comforting warmth on the cold steel of his body.

The tree fell, breaking into blackened splinters as it hit the earth. Sid rose from the ground, fists clenched and milky eyes staring down.

“I hope you’ve revised your strategy, students,” he stated, “Because class has begun, whether you’ve studied or not.”

* * *

There was a faint click as Luz straightened out the last of her papers, tapping them on her desk to get them lined up; there was always something satisfying about lining up the corners. It was almost cathartic, in the same way as drawing a perfectly straight line or fitting together a pair of puzzle pieces without bending the cardboard because you got the wrong ones (an experience the Latina was all too familiar with).

A simple satisfaction, yes. But one she enjoyed immensely nonetheless.

“Oooookay,” she set them down, leaning back in her chair, “That _should_ be all of it…”

“We’ve done your math, your English, your social studies…” Papi squinted as he held up the piles of stapled worksheets, “Have we done your sciences?”

“Everything except the dissection labs,” she pouted, “I still can’t believe they wouldn’t let me take the cow’s eyes home when we dropped off the last of my homework…”

“Personally, I’m fine with that,” he grimaced, “But… yeah, it looks like everything that we can do’s been done. All that’s really left is further review,” he glanced at her, lips gently drifting up at the corners, “You feel ready?”

She let out a hum, tapping her fingers together as she leaned back far enough to stare at the ceiling, her chair on the verge of tipping back and dumping her onto the floor, “… I think so? I’m pretty confident I can at least get a B across the board at this point,” she smiled, “You’ve been a huge help, _Papi._ ”

“Just doing my job as your Dad – and as a teacher,” he chuckled, taking the stack off her desk and stapling it, adding it to the pile listed ‘Completed Study Material,’ “But now my question is, are you trying your best?”

“Of course I am,” she sat up, pouting slightly, “Why wouldn’t I try my best?”

“A lot of kids don’t see the point in education, Luz,” he straightened, expression stern, “As your father, I know that you try hard at everything you do. That’s just who you are. It’s not in your nature to put in a half-hearted effort.

“But I’ve seen a lot of students come and go… and while a lot of the time it’s the result of lack of support from one source or another, it always hurts to see them stop trying,” he stuffed his hands in his pockets, seeming to stare off into the air right in front of him “It’s easy to lose you’re enthusiasm when you aren’t doing so well, you know?”

“… yeah,” she acknowledged, “There’s a lot of kids like that in my school…”

A poignant silence fell over them both.

“… so, I’ll ask again,” Dad shook himself out of his reverie, his eyes returning to focus, “And I don’t want you to answer immediately. Give it a little bit of thought before you answer.”

“Okay,” she bobbed her head.

“Are you trying your best, Luz?”

This time, she settled back, arms crossed as her back slid down her chair, lips pursed. Obviously, there were some subjects she liked more than others, and some that she outright didn’t care for – God knew she was struggling just to scrape by in math until a few days ago…

… but by the same token, it wasn’t as if she refused to put in any effort at all – and moreover, she genuinely had to wonder how many of her poorer grades were the result of a lack of effort on her part, or a lack of effort on the part of her teachers in terms of actually helping her learn.

“… I… I think I need to think on that a little more,” she admitted, straightening, “I get what you’re saying, and I’d be lying if I said that my frustrations with certain subjects didn’t cause me to slip a bit… but… I’m not sure how well…”

“How well you were actually taught those subjects?” he guessed.

“ _Si._ That,” she nodded.

He snorted, “And people wonder why I think this country could learn a thing or two from New Zealand”

“Don’t they pay their teachers like doctors there?” Luz queried.

“Yep. Same policies as the DWMA. And it is _much_ harder to become a teacher there, as well. You know the saying?”

“‘Those who can, do. Those who can’t teach,’” Luz quoted, wrinkling her nose in distaste… then she giggled, “‘And those who can’t teach, teach gym.’”

“Smartass,” the Death Scythe chuckled, “Not so in New Zealand; they treat their school system with some actual _respect._ But we’re getting off track. Do you think that with some better instruction and a little more effort, you could do a bit better?”

“… well, I _have_ been doing my best,” she began, a determined smile on her lips, “But I think you’ve seen what better instruction has been doing for me firsthand.”

He ruffled her hair, “See? I told you you’re a good student; trying your best is all anyone can ask of you.”

She grinned, “Thanks, Dad.”

“Anytime,” he dug into his pocket, pulling out his phone, “… should probably be heading back to my hotel, actually.”

“Alright,” she nodded, standing up to wrap him in another hug, “ _Buenos noches, Papi._ ”

“ _Buenos noches, Corazoncita,_ ” he returned the embrace, then gently broke away, “I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”

“You got it,” she raised a hand in a two fingered salute.

He flashed her one last smile, then stepped out the door.

* * *

Black Star let out a roar as he rushed his teacher, Tsubaki’s ninja sword in hand; they’d been clashing for what felt like hours. In his periphery, he was aware that the sunset had long since ended, that the oranges and pinks and purples had gently faded away into the infinite navy blue without his notice, stars blinking, moon grinning its usual morbid grin.

They must have been fighting for over half an hour now, at the very least.

But the ninja was only distantly aware of this. All that mattered to him was the here, the now, the heartbeat pounding in his ears as he jumped, spun, and swiped, attempting to cut open the back of Sid’s neck with a single clean slice.

It was infuriating how a corpse could move so quickly; Tsubaki’s blade only met the cold night air, the zombie ducking beneath it, spinning, and throwing up a kick that caught Black Star in the stomach.

He grit his teeth as he was propelled up into the air again by the impact, using the momentum to flip backwards and regain some control.

 _‘Black Star,_ _remember to stay calm,’_ Tsubaki’s voice echoed in the back of his mind, _‘Your opening will present itself in time. You just need to be able to identify it when it comes.’_

 _‘I know that!’_ he shouted mentally, though there was no scorn in his tone, _‘Kusarigama Mode!’_

_‘Right!’_

Her form changed once again in his hands, the grip of the short sword transforming into a chain; he flung the familiar weight of the first scythe down, the zombie easily sidestepping the attack.

The Dark Arm Meister had expected that; as soon as the blade struck the ground, he pulled on the chain, launching himself down with enough force that his ears rung with the breeze that rushed past-

The flutter of a longcoat shot in from the corner of his vision, the dark red blade gleaming.

Once again, all Sid had to do was sidestep, Tsubaki’s blade clashing with Soul’s.

Black Star grit his teeth as his anger mounted, shouting his frustration into the wind, “ _Dammit,_ Maka! I had him!”

“Didn’t look like it to me,” she grunted, not even affording him a second glance as she kept her eyes on the dancing cadaver, resuming her combat stance.

“Then get your eyes checked!” he flipped backwards, pulling both kusarigama back into his hands as he landed on one of the gravestones.

“… your strategy hasn’t changed at all,” Sid sighed, frustration and disappointment heavy in his tone, “You’re still refusing to work together.”

“Didn’t I tell you before, Sid?” the blue haired boy spat, raising Tsubaki once again, “Tsubaki and I don’t need anyone’s help. We’ll take you in all by ourselves!”

Despite the lack of focus in the zombie’s eyes, Black Star could feel the appraising gaze Sid now had levelled at him, his brow creasing however slightly, “You say that, but that certainly isn’t what I’m seeing. If anything, it sounds like an excuse.”

“And what’s _that_ supposed to mean?” Black Star hissed, anger flaring in his stomach.

“That you’re _incapable_ of working with Maka, Black Star.”

Everything in Black Star’s mind came to an abrupt, grinding halt. Every muscle in his body went rigid, taut like steel cables pulled tight to hold back some impossibly heavy collapse.

“Just like how you’re incapable of stepping up to take any responsibility for your actions. Just like how you’re incapable of completing a basic collection,” the corpse crossed his arms, “It’s like you’re bound and determined to disappoint everyone every step of the way. You’re capable of so much, yet you manage so little.”

Pain shot through his jaw from how tightly his teeth ground together; his lips pulled back in a snarl, fury pulsing through him and clouding his mind in a haze.

 _‘… Black Star…’_ he could barely hear her over his own heartbeat.

“… you don’t know the _first thing_ about me, you _walking corpse._ ”

Sid’s expression didn’t change, “Then prove me wrong.”

The shriek of rage that ripped out from his lungs shot out like a gunshot; all at once, the energy in his muscles exploded, as if some blockage had been removed from the machinations of his body. He shot into motion, sprinting forwards, “Tsubaki! Shuriken Mode!”

The twin scythes disappeared, shifting into a far heavier weapon; the five bladed wheel of steel was easily more than half his total height, each straight edge sharp and polished to a razor sheen. He spun her in his hand, the inner wheel perfectly contoured to his fingers, before hurling Tsubaki forwards with all his might.

Sid did not move. He stood still, leaning back against a gravestone, nonchalant…

Then raised his hand, catching the oversized ninja star without so much as a flinch.

Black Star remained unfazed as he closed the distance, “Smoke Bomb Mode!”

“Right!”

With that one word, Tsubaki’s form dispersed; steel turned to smoke, a thick fog that blanketed the graveyard and caught the moon’s light with an ambience that blinded entirely.

But that was perfect.

Black Star didn't need to see in order to make his strikes land.

He lashed out, his fists clenched-

Only for Sid’s fingers to close around his wrist.

Black Star only had time to feel his heart skip a beat as he was pulled into a strike that rattled his entire skull, the zombie’s knuckles colliding with his teeth; stars filled his vision as he stumbled back, only to be pulled forward once again, staggering forwards before his hand was released, and what felt distinctly like an elbow collided with the back of his skull.

“You’re not thinking,” Sid declared, “What good does a smoke bomb do against someone who’s already blind, Black Star?”

This time, Black Star managed to turn in time, eyes squeezed shut as he caught the next attack; Sid had just tried to kick one of his knees out.

“It’s not for you,” he snarled, “This is the only way it’s _fair!_ ”

He twisted, and he felt, more than anything else, Sid’s body spin in front of him, forced to align with the rest of his leg; Black Star refused to let go, instead stepping forwards, his other leg rising as he delivered a vicious kick to Sid’s side, the ribs displacing under his heel.

His anger melted away in the swell of pride, the satisfaction at finally managing to land a solid hit rising from his stomach, “YAAAAHOOOOOO-!”

Before Black Star could finish his elated cry, Sid’s elbow came crashing down on his kneecap; he slipped, landing roughly on his back, and all of the corpse’s weight came down on him at once, driving the wind from his lungs.

“Black Star!” the fog dissipated.

Despite the pain that wracked his ribs, the blue haired Meister remained determined. He kept his grip on the zombie’s ankle, twisting his whole body to try and knock the cadaver down.

Abruptly, all the weight disappeared; Maka stood over him, Soul’s blade embedded in the earth where Sid had been previously standing. Tsubaki was immediately at his side, slipping her hands under his shoulders and pulling him into a seated position, gradually allowing his vision to settle.

“… took you long enough,” Black Star wheezed, glaring holes into the back of Maka’s skull.

“We could’ve helped you sooner if you hadn’t used that smoke bomb,” the Scythe Meister’s retort was cold and concise, maintaining her gaze on Sid; he’d backed away, once again seeming content to merely watch, “Believe it or not, Black Star, we didn’t want to give you another cut.”

“Screw you,” he pushed himself back up, letting Tsubaki steady him as he rose to his feet. When was the last time he’d taken a kick like that?

“Hey, if it makes you feel any better, I also don’t feel like chipping my blade tonight,” Soul quipped, and Black Star could swear he saw a faint grin in the reflective edge of the Scythe, “I don’t know what you’re eating, but your skeleton’s hard as rocks, dude.”

“… well, at the very least, you’ve stopped arguing,” Sid noted, approval only barely noticeable in his tone, “It’s progress, but you’re still not ready.”

“Gonna run away like you did last night?” Black Star jeered.

“I’ve said what needs to be said; it’s up to you to take steps accordingly,” the zombie straightened, “Class dismissed.”

With that, he disappeared in a cloud of dust, sinking beneath the earth before they could blink.

“… well, at least we know where to find him,” Soul sighed.

“He’s not making any effort to change locations or confuse us,” Maka straightened, letting herself relax, “Either this place really means a lot to him, or he’s messing with us.”

“It could be both,” Tsubaki suggested, “His whole demeanour so far has been very… odd.”

Black Star said nothing; he was only barely aware of the conversation unfolding around him, even as he slowly regained his breath. His footing returned, and he stepped forwards, staring into the hole that Sid had left behind.

The former professor’s words echoed in his ears.

_‘You’re incapable of working with Maka, Black Star.’_

_‘You’re incapable.’_

_‘You’re_ incapable. _’_

Once again, the ninja found his teeth grinding against each other, kicking a rock into the tunnel before turning away.

“I’ll show _you_ who’s incapable,” he hissed, stomping back towards the group without a second thought, the remainder of the night fading into a blur.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the wait on this one, everyone!
> 
> The reason this one took so long is because I didn't want to string everyone along in terms of actually reaching the Boiling Isles, and I kept feeling like what I had written wasn't a good point to end on. So I decided to sit down and blast through until I completed the Stein arc.
> 
> What I ended up with was two chapters. This is the first one.
> 
> Also, yes, I know King of the Monsters came out in May, not June... but let's be honest. Luz is absolutely a Godzilla fan.
> 
> Please be sure to leave your thoughts below! I hope you enjoyed the eighth chapter of Owls and Souls, Witches and Resonance!


	9. Dread Examinations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Soul Eater or Owl House.
> 
> If I did, this would be the official material.

Day three.

Spirit leaned over the trash-can, gripping its edges as he did everything in his power to keep himself from violently ejecting his lunch.

 _‘Come on, Spirit,’_ he coached, fighting the rising bile in his throat, _‘That was a perfectly good hot dog and you’ve experienced more spinning fighting and dancing with Makoto. No reason to get sick. No, no reason at all.’_

Luz patted his back with a worried, but reassuring smile, the screams and laughter of the park well accompanied by the bright colours and vibrant blue sky.

“Maaaaaybe we should avoid the spinny rides from now on,” she suggested.

Her father’s only response was to groan into the bin.

* * *

“What the Hell do you mean, it’s not gonna work?”

Black Star’s voice was doing nothing to assist Maka’s pounding headache; she took a long, slow sip of her tea, caught somewhere between praying for its soothing effects to finally reach the contents of her skull, and chucking her mug, scalding hot contents and all, into the shinobi’s face.

“I mean, you’re not understanding how Sid actually processes sensory information now,” she explained, in as calm a tone as she could manage, “He’s not using his eyes and ears anymore. Even if he weren’t dead, most of his frontal lobe is kaput. Depriving him of his senses isn’t a bad idea, but covering his eyes and plugging his ears isn’t going to do much. That’s why Tsubaki’s smoke bomb mode didn’t really do anything to him last night.”

Black Star grumbled as he sat back in his chair, arms crossed, though for once, he did not fire any sort of comment back. Instead, his brow creased in what Maka could not believe was something he was actually capable of – thought.

“… uuuuugh, you’re right,” he groaned, arching his neck back to stare at the ceiling, “And I had this whole idea ready, too…”

“It wasn’t a bad idea,” Tsubaki piped up in support, smiling from the other side of the table, “We’re just up against an unusual opponent is all. We can’t expect normal methods to work.”

“To be honest, I'm surprised you two are even here,” Soul finally returned to the room, setting a steaming cup in front of the Dark Arm Meister and Weapon before sitting down himself, taking a sip of his coffee, “I didn’t think you’d want to talk strategy.”

“Don’t get the wrong idea,” Black Star snorted, “I’m here because I want to prove Sid wrong. I’m not interested in making nice.”

“… well, it’s better than nothing,” Maka muttered, closing her eyes and taking another sip.

Black Star’s only response was to reach for his cup and bring it up to his nose, sniffing it, “… ginseng?”

“… yeah,” Maka’s eyes narrowed, “How’d you guess?”

“I keep some in stock in case one of us ever gets sick. Works wonders for making you feel better,” with that, he took a long, slow sip, “… not bad. Not perfect, but not the worst tea I’ve ever tasted. Tastes like it’s steeped a little too long though.”

“… never took you for a tea guy,” Maka confessed, “I thought you’d be slamming back energy drinks every chance you got.”

“Ugh, _no,_ ” the sheer disgust in Black Star’s tone was palpable, “I’ve got better things to do than drink _actual poison._ ”

She blinked, the only tangible response she could come up with being an incredulous “Huh.”

“At any rate, I don’t think we really know enough about Sid’s weaknesses to really formulate a plan,” Tsubaki’s expression grew more serious, “He’s far too strong for us to fight directly, and the fact that his senses have completely changed in nature means that conventional methods aren’t going to work. And unfortunately, I don’t think the time we have left will be enough for us to properly coordinate our fighting styles to fight him.”

“So what do you suggest?” Soul asked.

“I think for now, we should simply continue to observe; keep probing for weaknesses where we can,” she smiled, “Between the four of us, we should be able to find _something._ ”

* * *

The bag jerked back under the force of the Latina’s punch, her knuckles colliding with the dark leather. The machine lurched slightly, the red numbers cycling…

“Come on, come on…” Luz murmured, rubbing her sore fist as the machine calculated the force of her strike…

Only for the number 19 to blare across its screen.

She let out a low whine as the machine refused to spit out any tickets, a mocking, low-quality laugh track echoing in the background over the shouts and squeals around her.

Dad snickered, “Told you that thing was rigged.”

“ _Everything’s_ rigged,” Luz snapped, pulling her cat hood over her head as if it could somehow help her hide.

“Yeah, that’s how they make their money, usually,” he mused, stepping up to the machine himself with his eyes narrowed, “Buuuuut, just because they’re rigged, doesn’t mean they can’t be won.”

The Latina slowly poked her head out of her hood, tentatively curious, “But doesn’t that contradict the definition of ‘rigged’?”

“All they’ve really done is change the objective of the game, Luz,” he explained casually, taking out a coin and slotting it into the machine, “They exploit people by making the games nearly impossible to win. They might not make much money off the individual, but enough people try, and they’ll be swimming in cash.”

“… so, then, how do we win?” she asked, finally letting her hood down.

“Simple,” he covered his eyes, raising a hand to the bag, middle finger curled down and held in place with his thumb, “We do what they do; find an exploit.”

He flicked the bag. The numbers spun.

And the machine started vomiting tickets as the numbers stopped at a full 100.

“… how did you…?” she started, kneeling to gather all the tickets the machine had violently spat out.

“Not me. Stein,” he chuckled, helping her gather the pink papers, “We stole one of these things once, back when we were partners.”

She grinned, her tone and posture mischievous, “ _That_ sounds like a _story._ ”

“One that can wait until we’ve cleaned this place out,” he returned her toothy smile, “You ready to cheat some cheaters?”

She straightened, all the tickets stuffed into her bag, “Let’s _do it!_ ”

* * *

Getting beaten by Sid was beginning to feel like a routine; a routine Maka was quickly getting sick of.

Even with Black Star cooperating – in the loosest possible definition one could have of cooperation – there was only so much they could do before he either left them too battered and bruised to continue or just up and left.

His fist collided with Soul’s blade, sending her skidding back across the ground before he dove, emerging from the earth just as quickly with a blindingly quick uppercut.

The Scythe Meister maintained her momentum, using it to step back and swing her partner, hoping to catch the zombie in the side.

He shifted forwards almost imperceptibly, his knuckles quickly closing the distance towards her brow.

She took a breath, braced herself-

And ducked, pulling Soul with her so Soul’s blade bit into Sid’s back.

“That maneuver won’t work twice-!”

“YA-HOOOOO!”

Before Sid could finish his sentence, Black Star shot in like a blue tipped bullet; he soared overtop of Maka’s head, his fist colliding with Sid’s chest, Tsubaki’s ninja blade in his other hand.

 _‘Here it comes, Maka!’_ Soul warned, _‘This is gonna sting!’_

 _‘I know,’_ she acknowledged, _‘Just make sure you don’t let go!’_

“BLACK STAR BIG WAVE!”

The ninja’s Soul Wavelength pulsed through the former professor’s body like a controlled earthquake; even with both the zombie and Soul acting as a buffer, Maka could feel the force of the blow running through her. She could feel her bones shift, her joints jolt painfully in place, every single muscle in her body seeming to abruptly bruise all at once.

The outward projection of Soul Wavelength in one of its most basic forms.

A physical shockwave.

It only lasted a second or two, but it felt far longer; she heard Sid choke, as if in pain, but she was too preoccupied with her own sensations and internal mantra to register it. She heard Black Star’s voice above, but the words were too garbled for her to make out; instead, she pulled harder, trying to pull Sid to the ground.

But once again, it proved fruitless.

Sid struck, sending Maka hurtling backwards across the ground and Black Star through the air. She caught herself mid backwards roll, skidding to a halt on the dry earth.

 _‘… you okay, Soul?’_ she asked.

 _‘Jesus tap-dancing_ Christ _, that hurts!’_ he shouted; on the other end of their link, the Meister could feel her Weapon’s ache, projected into her own bones and muscles through her palms, _‘I’ve got a newfound respect for Tsubaki. How the Hell does she handle getting hit directly with that Soul Wavelength all the time?!’_

 _‘She probably doesn’t take hits that big from him on a regular basis,’_ she noted, _‘Even so, she’s tougher than I give her credit for. I don’t think_ I _could handle Black Star’s Soul Wavelength constantly the way she does.’_

“… so, you’ve _finally_ started working together,” Sid rumbled, rubbing the back of his head, “Better late than never I suppose, though it’s still rather lopsided. You’re not working to each others’ strengths.”

“Starting to get _real_ tired of the lectures, Sid,” Soul shot as Maka rose to her feet.

“The lectures will stop once you’ve figured out how to beat me,” the zombie raised his fists again, ready to go on the offensive.

* * *

Luz felt bad for the guy running the prize stand.

He looked exhausted; his half lidded stare was one that had clearly seen too much of the same thing already, like someone who had ridden a roller coaster so many times that it no longer brought them any sort of joy. His skin was a painful, sunburnt red, peeling in places on his arms and face, his red shirt and hat doing nothing to make the image seem any less painful.

And upon seeing the stacks upon stacks of tickets in their arms?... Luz could have sworn she saw what little light was left in his eyes abruptly shrivel up and die.

“… welcome to the prize counter,” he sighed, his voice dead, “What do you want?”

“Weeeell…” Luz let her eyes wander about the many toys and plushies that lined the walls; all of them were possessed with some veneer of cuteness, but even with as many tickets as they’d won, she’d never be able to take them all. How would she even carry them without dropping some and getting them dirty?

Besides, other people were bound to win tickets at some point.

They deserved plushies for their victories as well.

Finally, her eyes landed on it.

An owl, almost as large as she was, with deep brown feathers that gently faded into an umber underbelly, golden eyes wide as it sat lopsided, giving it an almost quizzical tilt of the head.

It was like sparks flew from her eyes to her stomach, growing into a raging fire of desire.

As she walked away with her arms clamped around her prize like a vice, she heard her father chuckle.

“What’d I tell ya, Luz?” he grinned, “Did we get all the tickets, or did we get _aaaaaaaall_ the tickets?”

“All of them,” she repeated, glancing up with a smile of her own, “ _Hasta el último._ ”

* * *

Pain ran up through Black Star’s spine as his back collided into the grave, the tombstone toppling over in an unceremonious heap on impact. He rolled back without even opening his eyes, feeling the air rush past his forehead as Sid’s heel collided with the ground where his skull once was.

He hurled the first of Tsubaki’s Kusarigama, “SCREW-”

* * *

Day four.

They sat across from each other as the sun made its way across the horizon, casting the living room in a warm brilliance that was only enriched by the smell of chocolate and the sound of flipping pages.

Luz had always found the Lord of the Rings a difficult story to read; it lacked the urgency of any story she had read before, with a meandering pace that could only be achieved by writing down every little detail of a journey, from the most important climactic events – her favourite so far being the Ring Wraiths being carried away by the river – to the most inane of possible details, including what exactly the Hobbits had for breakfast upon waking.

And yet, when her father read the tale, she found her impatience wane; his voice carried her from her seat to the campfire the Fellowship had gathered around, as if she were there, hanging off every word spoken.

Granted, it helped that Dad was _really_ good at doing the voices.

She kept her eyes closed with a gentle smile, sipping at her hot chocolate.

Sometimes, this was the perfect way to spend an afternoon.

* * *

Night five.

Maka only realized she’d mistimed her swipe when it was too late to stop her momentum.

Sid’s kick slammed Soul’s blade into the wrought iron fence, the razor sharp blade cutting cleanly through each with no resistance.

The heavy iron bars fell, one after the other, forcing the Meister to dive out of the way even as Soul cursed enough for the both of them, “-THIS-”

* * *

Day seven.

The Latina bit at her lip, scouring the innumerable papers and worksheets on the table.

“Is something wrong, Luz?” _Mami_ set the plate down, concerned.

“ _Estoy bien,_ ” she smiled, though it felt plastered on like poorly done paper maché, “I’m just… nervous. First exam is in two days, and…”

“Hey, you’re gonna do fine,” _Papi_ assured, “You’ve been doing excellently these past few days. You just gotta treat it like any other school day.”

At this, Luz flinched; even before Mom delivered the discreet clap upside the head she could see his expression morph from a calm smile to pure panic.

Immediately, he backpedalled, “Okay, uh, poor choice of words…”

“It’s okay,” she stated, the words rushed, “Really. I get what you’re trying to say…”

“It’s like a band rehearsal!” he quickly amended, “The only difference between rehearsal and a concert is that you have an audience during a concert.”

Again, Luz flinched, drawing a low hiss through her teeth, and _Mami’s_ hand slowly rose to her temple, letting out a slow exhale.

“… I thought you liked band class?” he asked.

“… you never heard about that time I got banned from the band room, did you?”

“… no,” he finally settled, deflating, “No I did not…”

An awkward silence fell over the living room before her mother finally leaned down, placing a hand on their daughter’s shoulder.

“You’re going to do perfectly fine, Luz,” she gave a gentle smile, “I promise. With how well you’ve been doing, you should pass with flying colours.”

The Latina managed a smile of her own, “ _Gracias, Mami._ ”

She could only hope that her parents were right.

* * *

Night nine.

Soul could feel the dents in his Scythe form as he was thrown around alongside his Meister, the Wavelength-infused marble of another tombstone chipping his blade upon contact every time Sid swung it.

He was grateful that he didn't need to be sharpened like an actual blade would, stuck in a fire, melted down and reshaped to make sure all the damage was gone; much like his normal body, his blade and staff would gradually repair themselves, healing much like flesh and bone.

But that didn’t mean the experience wasn’t uncomfortable or even excruciatingly painful.

Doubly so as he felt Maka’s knees shred open as she skidded across the ground, prompting her to shriek, “-HORSE-”

* * *

Day ten.

Luz let out a deep breath, doing her best to bring herself back to some state of calm.

She could do this. This was what all that time studying had been leading up to.

She just had to settle down, and do the test.

She opened her eyes, picking up her pencil, pointedly not looking up at the clock or the teacher or the students around her as her first final finally began.

Spirit watched through the door window for a moment as Luz’s pencil flew across the page, her head shifting as her eyes swept back and forth between her test and the answer sheet; he’d done all he could, for now. Doing the test was up to her.

He broke away from the door, making his way down to the faculty offices.

It didn’t take him long to find the principal’s office.

Already, he could feel the anger boiling away in his stomach. Already, he was struggling to direct it in a way that was constructive.

But he didn’t let it show. He only took a moment to compose himself before pushed through the door.

“Principal Renyold?” he asked, feigning a veneer of professionalism. The heat of his usual black suit went a long way in helping him maintain the façade.

“… yes?” the man stopped typing, and slowly looked up from his computer.

“My name is Spirit Albarn,” he kept his hands in his pockets, not bothering to sit down, “I’m here in regards to your faculty’s treatment of my daughter.”

“… and that would be…?”

“Luz Noceda.”

“ _Ah._ ”

The dismissive irritation in the principal’s voice was only reinforcing Spirit’s growing urge to break his nose, and possibly his glasses.

 _‘Keep it together, Albarn,’_ he reminded himself, _‘You’re better than that.’_

The principal let his gaze fall back down to his computer, his tone thoroughly annoyed, “I don’t remember you scheduling an appointment, Mister Albarn.”

“I didn’t,” he acknowledged, “This visit is impromptu.”

“Then I must ask you to leave me be,” the typing resumed, “I’ve already spoken extensively with your wife-”

“Camilia and I aren’t married,” he spoke quickly, cutting Renyold off.

The older man glared up at the red haired upstart, “… be that as it may, I’ve spoken extensively with her regarding your daughter. Decisions have already been made. I have enough to deal with as it is without adding more disgruntled ranting from parents to the list.”

“Oh, I’m not just here as a parent, Mister Renyold,” Spirit felt his lips twist into a grimace that facsimiled a smile, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a card, placing it on the desk.

The half-second glance the principal gave it was quickly followed by a shocked stare as he read the ID. A sick satisfaction rose through Spirit’s stomach as Renyold’s face went deathly pale, his eyes slowly rising and his typing grinding to a complete and utter halt.

“I’m here as a teacher,” the Death Scythe continued, picking up his ID and finally taking a seat now that he had the principal’s complete and undivided attention, “And speaking _as_ a teacher, I must say… if the way you treat her is any indication as to how this school’s faculty operates, then I find your treatment of your students to be absolutely _deplorable._ ”

* * *

They were getting closer.

The cuts they left behind were getting deeper; with every clash there were more and more tears in Sid’s clothing, more gouges in his skin. Every time Maka and Soul were forced back by the zombie, Black Star and Tsubaki were hot on his heels. Every time the ninja and his Magic Dark Arm were pushed to retreat, the Scythe and his Meister were immediately back in the fray.

But it wasn’t enough.

Sid always anticipated what was coming next. He could read their movements as easily as an open book, and didn’t even need to see them with his eyes to react accordingly.

Even the few direct hits they had managed to land hadn’t worked; how can a man who feels no pain and suffers no consequences from his wounds be beaten into submission?

Maka let out a long, slow breath as she watched, waiting, Black Star’s admirable agility being the only thing keeping him ahead of the zombie’s brutally quick and precise strikes. It was only a matter of time before the blue haired boy’s movements failed him, and she would need to step in and give him a chance to catch his breath…

The strike caught him in the ribs.

Maka was on the advance before it had even concluded.

Black Star let out an audible wheeze before he was thrown into the air. Somehow he managed to regain his balance and catch himself on a grave before collapsing to one knee, gasping for breath with a hoarse shout, “-SHI-!”

“ _Black Star!_ ” Sid barked, his tone equal parts scolding and appalled, even as he spun to block Maka’s swing, “ _Language!_ ”

“That’s… _really…_ what you’re worried about?” the Dark Arm Meister managed, pushing himself back to his full height.

The Scythe Meister tuned him out, simply continuing to spin, Soul’s blade a crimson flash in the evening light, her internal mantra overclocked as she struggled to keep up the pace, _‘Keep up the pressure, keep up the pressure, keep up the pressure.’_

A rush of air as she barely dodged an incoming fist, the zombie’s knuckles gently grazing her cheek.

A mite of resistance as Soul’s blade nicked his skin once again, opening a sizeable, dark gash.

_‘Soul?’_

_‘Don’t worry, Maka. I’ve got them,’_ he promised, _‘Just keep this up until Black Star regains his breath. This is probably our last shot.’_

 _‘I know,’_ she blocked an incoming kick, then threw it off, spinning around the zombie and into a slash that she hoped would catch him across the back; instead, he spun in turn, raising a hand to deflect the swipe so that it instead grazed his arm. She clicked her tongue, _‘That’s what has me worried…’_

Regardless, she kept going, heedless of her already burning muscles and lungs.

“Tsubaki! Smoke Bomb Mode!”

Black Star’s voice had regained its usual vigour and volume; immediately, the world around them was blanketed in a swirling smokescreen so thick that Maka couldn’t even see her own arms. The only reason she knew where Sid stood was because of the sound of his feet scraping on the dirt.

“Really?” his tone was flat, unimpressed.

 _‘Soul, now!’_ she ordered.

He emerged from the blade of his Scythe without any verbal response, grinning as he took the cigarette lighter to the fuse of the fireworks he’d been keeping in his hood.

“You already tried this trick once, Black Star, what makes you think it’ll work-”

The fireworks hit the ground as soon as Soul returned to Weapon form, and Maka squeezed her eyes shut; but even through her eyelids, she could see the brilliant flash of vermillion as the fireworks went off, every bit as hot as they were blinding, accompanied by a deafening series of cracks and shrieks.

Sid let out a shout of mixed shock and pain, and her heart leaped into her throat. She swung Soul with all her might, catching Sid across the neck, hooking him back towards her and completely destroying his balance.

“Tsubaki! Kusarigama Mode!”

The smoke dissipated along with the light; Maka’s eyes snapped open, watching as time slowed to a crawl. Soul’s blade was pressed against the front of Sid’s throat in a grim facsimile of a guillotine, the zombie struggling to regain his balance in the precious fractions of a second he had before the airborne Black Star landed atop him, driving both feet into his chest and spinning both of Tsubaki’s kusarigama on their chains before hurling them.

Maka immediately released Soul.

Weapon and Meister, as one, shot to either side of the falling zombie as the chain wrapped around him, each catching one of Tsubaki’s small blades by the handle. Together, they pulled, and the chain went tight as Sid finally hit the ground.

The former professor struggled to break free from the chains and get out from under Black Star’s weight, but with his arms bound there was precious little he could do; by the time he tried to flip back and grab the shinobi’s head with his legs, Black Star had already shifted up and out of his reach, grinning as he drove his heel into Sid’s skull with every ounce of force he could muster.

Immediately, his body went slack, limp in the grip of the chains.

And all the while, the fireworks continued to go off like a cacophony of gunshots and angry spirits.

“What was that about being _incapable_ of working with Maka, Sid?” the ninja sneered, crossing his arms, “I’m the biggest star there is! There’s nothing I can’t do!”

“… well, we got him,” Soul huffed, not letting go of the chain or letting it go slack, “Now what?”

“Now,” Tsubaki began, her head and shoulders emerging from Maka’s hand scythe, “We should get into contact with the DWMA and call for extraction. Our part in this mission is complete; the rest should be left to the school faculty like Lord Death said.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Maka saw Black Star bristle – but before he could say anything, a low groan emanated from the bound corpse between them.

“… well. I must admit, I can’t say I was expecting that,” Sid slowly pulled himself up, shaking his head.

“… I’m surprised you’re still conscious,” Maka muttered, redoubling her grip on Tsubaki’s chain.

“I will remind you that I’m dead, Miss Albarn,” he didn’t look up, “Consciousness for me is very different from consciousness for you. It will take more than a heavy blow to the head to render me unconscious.”

“How about two?” Black Star cracked his knuckles.

“Looking for an excuse to keep punching a bound and beaten man, Black Star?” the corpse asked, tone disapproving.

“Considering what you’ve put us through over the past week and a half?” the Dark Arm Meister huffed, “I’d say one kick to the head is letting you off light.”

“As much of a brute as ever, I see,” he stated dryly, before finally raising his head, glancing at all four of them, “But what I want to know is what led you four to attempt such a reckless, hare-brained scheme in the first place.”

“Process of elimination,” Maka stated flatly, “A war of attrition was right out because you would never get tired; actually beating you outright also proved to be impossible with our current strength and skill level.”

“I’d have gotten him eventually,” Black Star postured, puffing up his chest with a smug grin.

“Moreover,” the Scythe Meister continued, pointedly ignoring the ninja, “Taking you down with a stealthy approach would also have been exceptionally difficult, if not outright impossible to do; even without your senses working so much differently from our own now, you were a Knife Meister, Sid. Combined with your burrowing techniques and the hand-to-hand fighting style you use, it’s not hard to work out that you specialize in stealth combat. We’d be trying to beat you at your own game in a scenario where your senses were essentially overclocked, to the point where you could see Black Star with no issue through Tsubaki’s Smoke Bomb Mode.”

“Which left us with one option,” Tsubaki smiled, “Taking advantage of those overclocked senses of yours.”

“So you used a combination of fireworks and a smoke bomb?” Sid raised an eyebrow.

“The fireworks were my idea,” Soul smirked, “We needed something that was both easily concealed and that would disorient you upon being set off.”

“The smoke served to disperse the light in such a way that it would surround you almost completely,” Maka elaborated, “Combined with the bright colours and flashes and the noise the fireworks made, we hoped it would be enough to give us an opening we could exploit.”

“… that was reckless of you,” the zombie sighed, “Reckless and haphazard.”

“It was our best option,” she insisted, “A flashlight wouldn’t have been powerful enough and a floodlight with speakers would have been too obvious. I didn’t want to use fireworks myself, but the plan wouldn’t have worked otherwise.”

“… and work it did.”

Maka blinked; was that… approval in Sid’s voice?

“You surveyed the situation, learned from your previous encounters and mistakes,” he recounted, “And most importantly, you managed to collaborate in a way that, while hardly flawless, allowed you to get the upper hand at a crucial juncture and finish the battle.”

“… but we still haven’t solved everything,” Tsubaki began, a certain steel to her tone, “Have we, professor?”

The zombie offered no response.

“That’s right,” Black Star grinned, “We still don't know who turned you into a zombie, do we?”

“… you’re not going to be getting it out of me that easily,” Sid stated, resolute, “I won’t sell-”

“Was it Professor Franken Stein?”

The silence that followed over the next few seconds was one of confusion as Soul, Tsubaki and Black Star collectively blinked, staring at her in hopes of an explanation.

But Maka kept her eyes on Sid as he slowly raised his head, aiming his milky white eyes directly at her, his lips curled as far down as they could go in their rigor mortis as he did everything he could to stop himself from showing his astonishment, “… where did you hear that name?”

“Did a little reading in my spare time,” she said offhandedly, and to her credit it wasn’t a lie – though there was infuriatingly little information on the man beyond his career as a Meister, leaving her only with context clues regarding his link to the current situation.

Thankfully, those clues were fairly blatant.

She tightened her grip, “Now answer the question.”

He squirmed uncomfortably in the chains, teeth grinding as he desperately groped for an answer…

“It’s absolutely this Stein guy, isn’t it?” Soul chuckled.

Sid let out a frustrated groan, “I wasn’t a liar when I was alive, and I’m not about to start now. Yes, it was Professor Stein. But you won’t get his location out of me so easily-”

“The Mary Shelly Laboratory on Lavenza Lane,” Maka quickly rehearsed, rising to her feet, “Up on Adam’s Hill, right?”

“… again, _how?_ ”

“I did some reading,” she repeated, tugging on the chain, “Alright, guys, let’s go report back to Lord Death-”

“No way.”

Everyone’s eyes were on Black Star as he crossed his arms, nostrils flaring.

“… Black Star, our job is finished,” Soul spoke, “We have Sid-”

“But we don’t have this Stein guy,” Black Star insisted, “If we stop here, we’re leaving the job half finished.”

“So, what, you want to go after the guy who killed Sid?” Maka asked, incredulous.

“Maka,” his tone was unusually serious as he levelled his gaze at her, “Think about this. Sid’s acting on his orders, right?”

The ninja glared at the zombie with narrowed eyes, “He’s probably been monitoring everything Sid’s been doing since he was killed. He might even know Sid’s been beaten – for all we know, he might be hearing everything we’re saying right now. We don’t have time to go chat with the Reaper; every second we waste trying to get the faculty on this is a second this guy has to make his escape.”

Maka grit her teeth; she had only just managed to get Black Star to work with her in full, and now that they had Sid their uneasy truce was already falling apart.

This was the _last_ thing she needed right now.

“Black Star, I understand what you’re saying, but the fact is we’re officially out of our depth,” the Scythe Meister reiterated.

“Maka’s right,” Soul agreed, “Whoever this guy is, he beat Sid relatively easily. I don’t need to remind you about the beatings we’ve been taking these past two weeks.”

“What we need to do is call in the cavalry and let Three Star Meisters and Weapons handle this-”

“We don’t have time for that!” Black Star snapped, cutting her off, “What happens if we do all that, and by the time they get to his door he’s already gone? What’ll happen then?”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” Maka insisted, “We’re not in a position where we can win!”

“They’re right, Black Star,” Sid spoke, voice stern, “You aren’t ready for this. If you pick this fight, even with all four of you working together, you _will_ lose. Pick and choose your battles.”

For a long moment, Black Star stood, hands clenching and unclenching, teeth grit and shoulders tense with his frustration. His eyes fell closed, and he breathed, each one deep and controlled.

When they opened, gone was the deep sea green.

They’d been replaced with that stark sky blue.

“… I can at least slow him down,” he turned away.

“Black Star-”

“Go ahead and call the Grim Reaper,” the ninja ordered, crouching deep, “Make sure those Three Stars get their asses in gear.”

With that, he leapt up into the trees.

“Black Star!” Tsubaki called after him, but it was to avail; Black Star was already bounding away, disappearing into the misty night.

Soul cursed, “Well, _now_ what?”

“… we stick to the plan,” Maka declared, rising to her feet, “We report back to Lord Death as quickly as we can…”

Tsubaki seemed to wilt, her expression crestfallen and her head bowed, a whimper escaping her…

“… and then?” Maka yanked on the chain, prompting Sid to get to his feet, “We’re going after Black Star.”

* * *

The Death Scythe let out a sigh as he scrubbed at the last of the dishes, his sleeves rolled up as far as he could get them on his arms. The heat and the suds were uncomfortable on his skin, steam rising from the pool of water in a clear indicator that it was much, much too hot for him to just be reaching in with bare hands, but by no means did he let that stop him. He quickly dipped his fingers in, snatching up the knife and hissing as the heat quickly turned his pale skin red…

“… you don’t have to clean up, Spirit,” Camilia assured, “There isn’t that much of a mess to clean up.”

“Dinner was a total disaster, Camilia,” he rinsed the blade, setting it aside in the rack to dry, “You’d think I’d know that I’m hopeless as a chef by now…”

A gentle chuckle emanated through the kitchen as she gently dried each plate, setting them back in the cupboard, “You’ve at least improved since last year.”

“Last year, I somehow melted a pot,” he recounted dryly, “On a stove that shouldn’t even _produce_ that much heat.”

“It made Luz laugh,” she reminded, “Even if we did end up ordering takeout, that’s enough for me. Besides, this time, your cooking was actually edible.”

“It was completely scorched,” he mumbled.

“The insides were dry, but not terrible.”

“Camilia, it was a _pot roast._ I don’t even know _how_ I scorched it.”

“Simple,” she smiled, “You put it back in the oven to keep warm after removing the lid-”

“And instead of turning it off, I accidentally set it to broil,” he finished groaning, rubbing at his forehead with slated teeth, “I can’t believe I did that…”

More quiet, subdued laughter, though it did bring a smile to his lips despite his frustration.

“I do appreciate you making the effort, Spirit,” the doctor stated, “Between Luz’s studies and how late I’ve been working of late, I don’t think we have much time to cook these days.”

“I can tell from looking,” he agreed, “Not much for leftovers in your fridge anymore.”

“How _did_ Luz do today, in her test?” she ventured, setting her towel down, “I know she seemed confident in her performance today when she came home, but I’d like your thoughts. Did she seem nervous at all?”

“A bit. But she wasn’t panicking at all,” he set the last of the pans back onto the stove to dry, “It was more your standard pre-exam jitters. Just wanting to do well… but if her performance with me is any indication, she’ll have no issues, provided her math final lets her use a formula sheet.”

“Which, by all rights, they should,” she noted, crossing her arms, “I don’t understand how anyone could expect every child in a batch of twenty to thirty to memorize all those theorems.”

“Some people just don’t have any empathy.”

“Too true…” she took a deep breath through her nose, “… but there was something else you wanted to talk about?”

“Just that I spoke with Luz’s Principal today,” he let the water drain from the sink before rolling his sleeves back down.

At this, her expression grew more stern, “Spirit…”

“I didn’t do anything overt,” he promised, “I just… well, I felt like I had to voice my own concerns regarding how they addressed her behaviour. Both as a parent, and as a teacher.”

She sighed, leaning back against the counter, “… you _know_ it isn’t your place to lecture other people on how to do their jobs.”

“Maybe not,” he conceded, “But it’s so _hard_ to just sit by and watch knowing how they treat the kids in their care. It’s Goddamn baffling, Camilia; the whole system is screwed.”

“I don’t dispute that,” she said, pushing her glasses back up her face, “But you know that throwing your weight around with one particular principal isn’t going to fix matters. He’s just a symptom of the overall problem.”

“… I know,” he ran his hands down his face, shame welling up in his stomach, “I know… you’re right… as usual.”

“… Luz really did inherit that heart of yours,” the Latina smiled faintly, “You’re both so quick to try to help others. That’s something to be proud of. You just… need to be better about thinking these things through.”

“… yeah,” he breathed, “I always thought that part would get easier as I got older.”

“Wisdom is not something simply gained, Spirit,” Camilia reminded, “It is something that is cultivated.”

He grunted, “At the very least, though, that school’s faculty can afford to treat their students with a bit more kindness. Even if the system is broken, basic care for every single one of those kids should be non-negotiable.”

“… that’s a frustration I know all too well,” she nodded, eyes falling as her smile faded, “Is that why you insisted on making dinner tonight?”

“… I felt like I had to make it up to Luz somehow; I couldn’t get her trip to Camp lifted,” he murmured, “He wouldn’t budge, even after seeing my credentials… I managed to give him a good scare, but without the backing of an actual school board, there isn’t much I can do.”

“Another reason you should have been more thoughtful,” she intoned, “You don’t have the same authority here that you do in Death City. Your accomplishments are respected, but not recognized in the same capacity in a standard school system.”

“Yeah… but at the very least, I think I managed to get him thinking,” he stuffed his hands into his pockets, “School systems talk to each other, after all… and in that regard, the DWMA is pretty highly respected.”

“It is, yes,” she conceded, “But by the same token, I doubt that the Grim Reaper would appreciate you stirring up a fuss like this.”

“What, I have more important things to worry about?” he asked.

“Among other things,” she leaned back against the stove, “But mostly, you’re throwing around your authority in a way that could be very easily construed as selfish, or even corrupt. If someone decides to deliberately misconstrue your actions today, it could reflect very, very badly on you.”

Spirit’s spine went ramrod straight, the shock forcing his eyes open. He stared into the open air, working his jaw as the implications of his actions settled in the pit of his stomach, a cold chill washing over his head and shoulders…

“… and anything that reflects badly on you, can reflect badly on the Grim Reaper.”

“… Jesus,” he swore, swaying unsteadily before catching himself on the counter. It was so obvious, now, how he must have looked, swaggering in and casually tossing his certification onto the desk, “How could I have been so _stupid?_ ”

“Easy now,” she assured, placing a hand on the back of his shoulder, “ _Càlmate._ Principal Renyold, for the most part, is a reasonable man. As long as you kept things civil, he isn’t likely to hold this against you. Now, what exactly did you say to him?”

“… nothing too severe,” he straightened, bringing a hand to the back of his head, “I mostly just… scolded him for how he treated Luz, and what it implied for any student that acted out, for any reason. It’s one thing if a student actually shows problematic, dangerous behaviour, but…”

“Did you actually _say_ that to him?”

“Not that exact wording, but… yes,” he clarified, “That’s the long and short of what I talked to him about.”

“You didn’t threaten him or his faculty?” she asked.

“No,” he said, “I didn’t threaten anyone in any way, although I certainly wish I could’ve given Luz’s biology, drama and gym teachers a piece of my mind.”

“And Renyold was the only one you spoke to?”

“Yes. He’s the only one I had a _chance_ to speak to.”

She paused for a moment, letting the information settle. After a moment, her lips gently drifted up, expression softening, “Then I don’t think any harm has been done.”

He sighed, a slight weight lifting from his shoulders as he slumped again, rubbing at his temple, “I still can’t believe I let my temper get the better of me like that… Maka’s right. I’m such a spastic idiot…”

“You’re a man of emotion, Spirit,” Camilia stated simply, “You have been for as long as I’ve known you, for better, and for worse. On the one hand, it makes you a caring man. On the other, it makes you impulsive, often recklessly so.”

“That’s what I just said,” he muttered, “I’m a spastic idiot.”

“Well, at least your sense of humour is still intact,” she countered wryly.

Silence reigned over the kitchen for a long moment.

“… are you going to see Luz yet tonight?” she inquired.

“Before I leave. I’ll check in and see if she needs any more help with her studies.”

“You’d best get to it then,” she gestured to the clock, “It’s late. You don’t have much time left.”

He smiled, “No rest for the wicked, eh?”

“None whatsoever.”

He chuckled, then made his way up the stairs to speak with his daughter.

* * *

“ _You’re_ sure _Black Star went off to Mary Shelly Laboratory?_ ” the Reaper asked with a quizzical tilt.

“He took off in that rough direction,” Maka managed through laboured breaths, clinging to the hand mirror Blair had insisted she take, “He insisted. He wanted to make sure Sid’s killer wouldn't’ have a chance to get away…”

“ _… well, his logic is sound, but he’s making a rather foolhardy decision…_ ” Lord Death mused.

“How quickly can you get those Three Stars down here?” Soul cut in, his own breathing unsteady as they ran.

“ _Thankfully, we’ve had people ready for dispatch for several days now,_ ” Death’s voice implied a smile, “ _We can get a group down there in about fifteen minutes, twenty on the outside. Can you find Black Star in the meantime?_ ”

“We’ll try,” Maka huffed, “With any luck, he’s gotten lost and isn’t anywhere near the lab…”

“What do we do if he’s already engaged?” Soul inquired.

“ _Do your best to support him until help arrives,_ ” the Reaper’s head bobbed, “ _But don’t rush into a fight you can’t win. If things begin to go poorly, retreat at the first opportunity. I’d rather have to hunt for the perpetrator than lose any students over this. Understood?_ ”

“Understood,” the Scythe Meister nodded, “We’ll talk later!”

She snapped the mirror shut, and redoubled her pace-

-only to nearly crash headlong into Tsubaki, who had come to a complete halt.

“… well, looks like we’re here,” Soul coughed.

It was somehow colder up on Adam Hill. It was hardly the highest place in Death City – that particular position went to the DWMA itself – but there was something about this particular crest that seemed to sap the heat from the air itself.

It certainly did Soul’s lungs no favours, still raw from keeping pace with Tsubaki all the way here.

She’d maintained a partial transformation with her hair to keep Sid bound as they sped after Black Star. Even now, the zombie remained chained, his arms kept firmly at his sides; but his weight had hardly seemed to even slow the Magic Dark Arm down. She didn’t even show any signs of fatigue, her breaths perfectly even as her gaze swept back and forth through the fog.

“Black Star!” she called, “Where are you!?”

“Tsubaki,” Maka managed, swallowing to soothe her raw throat, “I don’t think that’s going to help…”

“He’s _got_ to be out here somewhere,” the shinobi girl insisted, head on a swivel, “Black Star!”

“Look,” Soul wheezed, “We weren’t _that_ far behind him. If he hasn’t taken a wrong turn, he should be here. If he has… well, then no harm done.”

“YAAAA-HOOOOOOOOO!”

The shout was accompanied by the sound of iron bending under the force of a heavy blow, twisting and breaking, clattering to the pavement; immediately, the trio rushed towards the source of the commotion.

There stood Black Star, dusting off his hands as he stood over the broken gate, a large, square building looming behind him.

“Black Star!” Tsubaki shouted, relief tangible in her voice as she finally caught up to him, “There you are…”

He glanced back over his shoulder, “Oh, hey. Didn’t think you guys would come.”

“Not because we wanted to,” Maka glared, crossing her arms, “We just don’t want you getting hurt.”

“Yeah, well-”

“Stop,” Soul interrupted, ears perking up.

“Oh, what?” Black Star snorted, “You want some of this too, Soul?”

“No, seriously, shut up,” he hissed, then paused, “… do you guys hear that?”

“… yes,” Tsubaki murmured, “I do.”

The blue haired ninja frowned, turning back towards the building; even through the mist, the stitch-like patterns and arrows were plain to see on its surface, its shape strict, utilitarian, “… sounds sorta like a skateboard…”

Abruptly, the doors flew open; a white and grey shape barrelled out of the shadows and into the misty night, skidding forwards several feet before toppling over and collapsing in a heap with a yelp of pain and surprise.

Slowly, the shape pushed itself up, taking on a more and more defined human shape beneath the stitched up lab coat; a mass of messy grey hair mixed with the equally unearthly pallor of his skin, making Soul briefly wonder if he’d stepped right out of one of those old time silent films.

The faint green of his eyes behind his glasses, however, quickly put that theory to rest – along with the cold steel, dark steel of the screw that ran through his head.

He was tall, lanky, flexing his fingers absently as he cracked his neck. He knelt down, picking up the office chair and resetting it with a casual nonchalance, reaching up and adjusting the screw by a turn. Then he frowned, turning it back the other way, closing his eyes, “Still doesn’t feel quite right…”

For a long few seconds, he stood, motionless…

“… alright,” he declared, gripping the chair by its back, “Let’s try that again.”

With that, he marched back in, and slammed the door shut.

“… what was all _that_ about?” Maka asked.

“You got me,” Black Star seemed unusually perturbed, “Maybe he’s just bonkers?”

After a few seconds, the same rolling sound emanated from the building again; the door flew open, and once again, the man rocketed out backwards, only to collapse in a heap.

“… well, that clearly isn’t going to work,” he finally settled, once again pushing himself back to his feet, cracking his back and pulling the chair back into place. He settled into it with the back against his chest, leaning forwards with a clinical, appraising stare – an uncomfortable stare made all the more unnerving by the cigarette in his teeth and the stitches that ran down his face.

“… this the guy, Maka?” Soul whispered.

“… yep,” she nodded, “That’s Doctor Stein.”

“… you must be the DWMA students,” he stated more than asked, resting his chin on his arm, “I must say, you’re here much sooner than I expected. I haven’t even had a chance to clean up yet.”

Black Star immediately grinned, “You scared? I bet you are, knowing that now you have nowhere to run!”

“No, not really,” Stein took a long, slow drag of the cigarette, closing his eyes on the exhale, “To be honest, I’m more annoyed than anything else. It took you ten whole days to take down Sid, but you come here minutes after you capture him… it’s a frustrating juxtaposition,” he raised his head slightly, “You didn’t get soft and just told them where I was, did you, Sid?”

“No, Doctor Stein,” Sid declared, remaining seated on the ground, “I can assure you that they figured it out entirely on their own.”

“Hmmm,” the patchwork man’s eyes narrowed, “Well, that’s just perplexing…”

Soul kept his expression neutral, doing everything he could to hide just how unnerved he was. There was something wrong with how Stein’s eyes fixed on each of them; it was like he was staring at something in a petri dish, rather than a group of Weapons and Meisters ready to take him in for questioning.

He seemed totally unperturbed by the difference in numbers or by the difference in armaments. If anything… he was lost entirely in his own thoughts.

“… aaaah,” he smiled slightly, faintly baring his teeth, “That explains it.”

“What explains what?” Maka asked, perplexed.

“I just took a look at your Souls,” he explained, a new note of cheerfulness entering his tone.

“You can see Souls?” Tsubaki asked, eyes widening, “That means… you must be a Meister!”

“‘Must be’ is the wrong phrase,” Stein adjusted his glasses, “Anyone with the ability to control their Soul Wavelength can potentially do it, Weapon or Meister. It’s really nothing too complicated; it just gives me better data to work with regarding each of you.”

He pointed first at the blue haired shinobi, “You must be the failing student. Black Star, was it?”

“ _Failing!?_ ” Black Star choked, “You’re gonna call me that after how I took down a Three Star Meister!?”

“A Three Star Meister who is already dead and isn’t even back to full strength,” Stein intoned, “It took you over a week and a half to beat up a dead man. With _help._ I’m not particularly impressed.”

A low growl emanated from the ninja’s throat, “Oh, you’re gonna regret that.”

“I doubt it,” the doctor mused, eyes half lidded, “Your Soul is constantly bouncing around inside of you, full of energy with no outlet for it. Its Amplitude is powerful, especially for your age – I can tell just from looking. But it’s also highly unstable, and your high Frequency and attitude make you exceptionally difficult to work with,” he glanced at Tsubaki, “It’s no wonder your partner’s Soul is so subdued. She’s probably the only one who’s willing to put up with you.”

“She’s the only one who can _handle_ being my partner!” Black Star reached up, placing a heavy hand on Tsubaki’s shoulder with a vicious grin.

“I can see that,” Stein stated dryly, before looking to Soul, “You, on the other hand, are fairly in tune with your Meister. Your Soul is calm and self-assured, and yours…”

He trailed off as he stared at Maka, eyes widening a fraction as if in surprise. After a moment, his smile pulled back further, speaking as if he had come to a sudden realization, “… yes, that’s right… you’re Spirit’s daughter.”

Maka stiffened as Stein’s attention fixed completely and utterly upon her, his posture rising from a lazy slouch to a predatory poise; even so, she snorted, “Only by blood, unfortunately. I’m not old enough to officially disown him yet.”

“Harsh,” Stein chuckled, “But I suppose not wholly undeserved. How _is_ he doing, anyways? Last I heard-”

“Why does it matter to you?” Maka snapped, cutting him off, “How do _you_ know him?”

“… heh. Like mother, like daughter,” Stein’s voice grew steadily more amused, eyes narrowing, “You really _are_ like the woman who stole my experiment from me.”

Maka blinked, but before she could respond, Stein continued as if the exchange had never occurred, glancing back and forth between her and Soul, “Your Wavelengths compliment each other, but you haven’t attempted anything beyond a Basic Resonance. As partners, you work well together, but as an actual Weapon and Meister pair, you’re untested. You’ve never attempted and actual Soul Resonance.”

Soul grimaced, a smile forming over his features; the clock had to be winding down. The Three Stars would be here soon If they could keep him talking-

“Blah, blah, _blah,_ ” Black Star mocked, slipping into a combat stance, “You sure like to run your mouth, doc. But I didn’t come here to chat; the Three Stars’ll be here any minute now, and I’m here to take you down before they arrive!”

Slowly, Soul turned to face him, mouth agape, suddenly gaining a thorough understanding of Maka’s urge to crack him upside the head, “… _really?_ You’re just gonna up and _tell him that!?_ ”

“Why not?” Black Star asked, “It’s not gonna matter in a minute here.”

“… yes, I know that,” Stein noted, letting his head angle upwards, “Going off memory… I’d say they’ll be here in about ten minutes.”

Black Star grinned, “This’ll only take five.”

He rushed forwards, leaping, a leg pulled back to strike as he descended upon the seated scientist.

Stein didn’t even stand up. With a simple push of his foot, he spun in his chair, raising an arm in a lazy block, stopping Black Star’s kick on the first pass.

On the second spin, his fist caught Black Star across the jaw, sending him skidding across the ground.

“No,” Stein sighed, turning in his seat with his chin in his palm, “This won’t take five minutes.”

He pushed off the ground; the chair rushed forwards with all the speed of a car on the highway as Black Star leaped to his feet-

-only for Stein’s open palm to collide with his nose, knocking him right back down.

“… accounting for all four of you… this will only take two.”

Maka’s had immediately encircled Soul’s wrist; he delved into the dark, transforming into a Scythe in one fluid motion.

“Tsubaki!” the Scythe Meister ordered, “Stay back!”

“But-!”

“If you let go of Sid, we’ll have to fight _both_ of them!” Soul barked as Maka broke into a sprint, “Stay back and keep your hold on him!”

“Not a bad assessment,” Stein noted, once again spinning lazily in his chair with his arms hanging limply, watching as the black and red blade arced inwards; he simply shifted his weight, causing the chair to roll cleanly out of the scythe’s path. As the Meister let her momentum carry her into another swipe, he shifted again, the chair reacting with far more speed than its creaky, uneven frame and wheels should have allowed for, letting him dodge with scarcely any movement, “But it leaves you divided. And there is a reason-”

The scientist raised his feet in the split second that Maka showed him her back; the kick that followed sent pain shooting through her shoulders before she was sent skidding across the ground. Soul winced as the ache carried through to him through her palms, her stance unsteady as she caught herself just enough to make sure she was at least ready to continue.

Just in time to see the back of Stein’s head collide with Black Star’s nose, once again knocking him to the ground with a particularly violent curse.

“-that the term is called ‘Divide and Conquer,” he adjusted the screw, eyes hidden behind the light reflecting off his glasses.

Maka wasted no time, pushing up from her crouch into another lunging swing.

This time, however, the doctor did not simply dodge. He countered, ducking under the swing and raising his hand in an open palm strike; Maka caught it just in time to adjust her stance, raising Soul to defend herself from the blow.

But the instant Stein’s hand collided with Soul’s staff, a pulse ran through them both, the doctor’s arm twisting and launching them backwards with enough force to send them colliding into the wall.

It was like an electric shock; Soul felt every muscle in both his own body and Maka’s violently convulse, her stance immediately breaking and her fingers coming loose, almost making her drop her partner entirely. She only barely remained standing, a sharp, throbbing agony running through her entire body, muscle, bones and all.

Soul felt no better; even in weapon form, he could taste the blood in his mouth. His head swam, his connection to his partner completely broken after one heavy blow from the scientist.

 _‘… Maka?’_ he slurred, struggling just to get his thoughts in order.

 _‘Here,’_ she confirmed, sounding every bit as discombobulated as he felt, _‘I-I’m here.’_

 _‘What the Hell was that?’_ he asked, _‘That was worse than when I tried to fix my toy piano when I was six…’_

 _‘… that must’ve been his Soul Wavelength,’_ she managed, gasping for breath, _‘That’s the only thing I can think of that explains what just happened… I feel like I just got hooked up to a car battery…’_

The Scythe shuddered, returning his attention to the bedraggled scientist before them, _‘… there’s no way we’re winning this, is there?’_

She shook her head, swaying, _‘No. No there’s not. He’s toying with us, and that hurt a lot more than anything Sid threw at us… we’re in over our heads.’_

Stein simply sat there, expression neutral as he finally rose to his feet, pushing the chair aside.

“I think it’s about time to begin the experiment in earnest,” he cracked his neck, “Do I have any volunteers?”

“It’s not gonna be much of an experiment!” Black Star shouted; if there was one thing he was to be congratulated on, it was the sheer resilience of his facial structure. Despite bleeding from the nose, the only sign of discomfort the ninja showed was that of pure rage; he closed in on Stein’s back, teeth bared in a vicious snarl, “We already know what the results are going to be!”

“That’s exactly why you don’t interest me,” Stein sighed.

“You _should_ be interested! _I’m the strongest one here!_

“BLACK STAR BIG WAVE!!!” he drove his knuckles and elbow into Stein’s spine, and this time, Soul could see what exactly what had happened several nights prior against Sid; the shockwave was powerful enough to actually be visible, the air around Black Star and Stein visibly rippling before exploding outwards upon impact, glowing kanji forming all around them.

That should have been the end of it.

After taking a hit that strong, Stein should have collapsed on the ground, dead or unconscious; he wasn’t like Sid. He wasn’t dead. He shouldn’t have been able to shrug off such a powerful direct hit from Black Star’s Soul Wavelength.

But he was.

And he did.

He slowly turned to face Black Star with narrowed eyes and a strangely serene smile.

“… h… how are you-”

“Still standing?” he cut Black Star off, “It’s a simple technique, really. Everyone is capable of adjusting their Soul Wavelength’s Frequency, even if only a little bit; it’s how many Weapons and Meisters are compatible with each other in the first place.”

Black Star took a step back, prompting Stein to step forwards.

“All I did was adjust my Soul Wavelength to match yours,” he grinned, “I’ll admit you probably left a bruise with that hit, but your actual Soul Wavelength is actually rather easy to render harmless, at least for someone who knows how. If I’d really wanted to, I could have easily dodged it, or even bounced your Wavelength right back at you.

“I wonder if you’ll be able to nullify mine, with how selfish your Soul is?”

Stein’s hands flew to the sides of Black Star’s head; to the ninja’s credit, he immediately threw his arms up, trying to block and get a hold of the lunatic’s arms-

-but Stein was too strong, much stronger than his lanky build seemed to suggest. The impact immediately broke through Black Star’s guard, and before the boy could process what had just happened, Stein’s open hands clapped on Black Star’s ears with enough force to produce a gunshot-like crack. He cried out in rage, gripping the doctor’s wrists…

And then began screaming as Stein’s Soul Wavelength shot through him.

It was a sickly yellow that bordered on green, a vicious electric current that shot between his hands, tiny bolts of lightning boring directly into Black Star’s skull.

It was unreal, hearing Black Star scream in anything other than self-aggrandizing pride or anger.

There was none of that in Black Star’s voice.

There was only pain.

And though it only lasted a few seconds, each one was far, far too long.

It was only when Stein released the ninja that it ceased; the blue haired boy didn’t even sway, eyes unfocused and body limp as he tipped back, and fell with a heavy, sickening crunch, blood seeping from his eyes, nose, and mouth.

“… Black Star…?” Tsubaki’s voice wavered with disbelief, staring eyes-wide at the unmoving form of her partner, hands over her mouth.

She received no answer.

“… B… B… BLACK STAAAAAAAAR!” she howled, her hand flying to the chain that was keeping Sid bound; in a single fluid motion, she ripped it free, the Kusarigama at the end flying to her hands as she lunged at the patchwork doctor.

His smile didn’t waver as he dodged her strikes and slashes, sidestepping every swipe and blow with effort as minimal as his movement. When he finally retaliated, it was swift, and violent, driving his fist into her stomach with enough force to physically lift her off the ground.

But she didn't relent; letting out a shriek, she gripped Stein’s arm, wrapping the chain around his wrist and ducking under his other arm; the chain pulled taut as she rose up behind him, yanking his arm around his body as she leaped, spring-boarding off his shoulders and quickly wrapping the chain around his throat in a make-shift noose, planting her foot against his chest and pulling it as tightly as she could.

Through it all, his small grin never once wavered, eyes locked on her as she drew the other hand-scythe, “Just as spirited as your partner in your own way, I see.”

Tsubaki offered no answer. She only swung, this time aiming to cut through his throat and end the fight.

Before she could, the same yellow-green glow returned. It shot through the chain wrapping around Stein’s body, directly into Tsubaki’s body, the Kusarigama nearly falling from her hand mid-swing as the Wavelength coursed through her body. Even as strong and durable as she was, withstanding the force of Black Star’s Soul every time they went into battle, Stein’s was on a completely different level.

Even so, she maintained her stranglehold, gritting her teeth and moving her blade closer and closer to his exposed neck…

Only to collapse, her chain and blades disappearing all at once as she fell.

“… you’re stronger than you look,” Stein murmured, seeming genuinely impressed before he finally returned his attention to Maka and Soul.

The Scythe felt numb; he just watched the single strongest and most stubborn kid he knew get put down with a frightening casual ease. He just watched the most patient girl he had ever met fly into a feral fury he hadn’t thought her capable of, and meet the same fate as her Meister even in spite of it. All of it, just from exposure to this freak’s Soul Wavelength; any use of direct strikes was just a prelude to that painful, sustained electric shock.

And the worst part was that he couldn’t even tell if they were alive or dead.

He could feel it from his partner, too; an almost physical illness had welled up in Maka’s stomach, a primal fear that made her insides churn with the conflict between her fight and flight instincts. Her hands were trembling, and not from any sort of frustration or pain – this was a pure terror that kept her from so much as screaming.

 _‘Maka,’_ he whispered.

No answer.

_‘Maka, we have to run.’_

_‘… we can’t,’_ she managed, _‘Tsubaki was keeping Sid bound… they’ll_ catch _us…’_

Right when he believed his heart couldn’t sink any further, it continued to plummet; where Tsubaki had once been standing, Sid had risen to his feet, dusting himself off and flexing his arms, as if to remove an ache from his muscles and bones.

“Well, this certainly took an unfortunate turn,” he grunted, looking to the grey haired doctor, “Shall I apprehend them, Doctor Stein?”

“Only if they try to run. Otherwise, I can handle the rest of this little experiment myself” he flexed his hands, eager, “You really do have beautiful skin, Scythe Meister Maka… I can’t wait to see if I can turn it into sandpaper.”

The trembling grew worse. Maka raised Soul to defend, but made no movements beyond that, eyes wide.

_‘… Soul?’_

_‘… I’m here, Maka,’_ he assured, _‘I’m right here.’_

_‘… what do we do now?’_

He didn’t answer – not immediately, at least. The truth was, he didn’t know what to do next himself. After all, what _could_ they do? With a zombie that had taken all four of them and a hefty amount of misdirection to take down, and this deranged, but powerful lunatic in front of them, there would be no getting away if they ran. If they fought, they would lose, possibly even die if they Three Stars didn’t get here in time…

… but if they surrendered…

He shuddered at the look in Stein’s eyes; no, surrender was out of the question. If they surrendered, the chance that they would die went from an almost certainty to an inevitability.

 _‘… we have to fight,’_ he finally answered.

_‘But how? He’s too fast to reliably hit and we can’t keep taking hits from that Soul Wavelength; mine isn’t strong enough to cancel it out, and I don’t think yours is either.’_

_‘Maybe not alone,’_ Soul agreed, glancing at his partner.

The trembling stopped; the fear was interrupted by a moment of confusion, and then, slow realization.

_‘… are you suggesting… a Soul Resonance?’_

_‘That’s exactly what I’m suggesting.’_

_‘… not to burst your bubble, Soul,’_ Maka thought, tightening her grip, _‘but we’ve tried that before. It’s never worked.’_

 _‘We don’t have much choice here. It’s do or die, Maka,’_ his tone was final, but encouraging, _‘What’s it going to be?’_

It was his turn to wait for an answer; her emotions swirled, fear diminishing and rising back and forth against a sudden wave of anger. Her jaw set, and after a long moment, she settled into a state of raw determination, widening her stance and raising Soul once more.

 _‘If this doesn’t work?’_ she warned, _‘I’m kicking your ass all the way to Hell.’_

He felt his smile return, _‘I wouldn’t have it any other way.’_

“I see you’ve stopped trembling,” the doctor noted, tilting his head, “Does this mean you’re ready to show me what you can do?”

“We’re not just gonna show you what we can do,” Maka hissed, “We’re gonna _kill you!_ ”

“Doctor Franken Stein!” Soul declared, “Your Soul is ours’!”

Stein sank into a deeper stance of his own, raising his hands with a more somber tone, “Then come and see if you can take it.”

Soul felt the wave flow into him through Maka’s palms; a gentle pulse, a tentative metaphorical hand reaching out to him with gentle fingers.

He took that hand in his own, bouncing the wave back in reciprocation, up through Maka’s hands.

Again, the wave returned, stronger this time, and again he bounced it back to her, growing stronger and more consistent with each repetition until it wasn’t so much a back and forth bounce as it was a synchronized beat. No longer was it just a wave of faint energy, it was swelling, flooding his entire being. It pounded in his head, in his chest, through his limbs, through the steel of his body with rhythmic regularity like an overwhelmingly powerful heartbeat. It was _thought,_ it was _emotion,_ it was _intent._

It was _power._ The sensation of one Soul joining with another, matching Wavelengths to do together what they could not do alone.

He felt his blade transform, a brilliant blue glow forming across its surface before it abruptly expanded into something less substantial, but far more sharp than mere metal ever could be. A crescent of light that flowed like water, a sickle-like blade that was now longer than Maka was tall. Her emotions flooded into him, just as his did into her, their shared fearful determination somehow finding equilibrium.

It was funny, in a way.

How many times had they tried this technique, only to be met with failure to so much as draw it out time and time again? Only to finally reach it now that they were staring their own deaths in the face?

“… well, this is certainly new,” Stein cocked an eyebrow, glancing at the zombie, “Have you been holding out on me, Sid?”

The former professor vehemently shook his head, “No, Doctor. This is completely new to me; I knew they were trying, but I didn’t think they had actually achieved it!”

Maka rushed forwards, letting out a roar in her charge as she swung, “ _WITCH HUNTER!!!_ ”

Stein did not dodge as Soul’s blade descended upon him; instead, he caught it between his hands, gritting his teeth and smile slipping as the edge of the glowing crescent came within mere centimeters of his face, the white-blue glow bright enough to illuminate the grey-green of his eyes. Smoke rose from his skin as the ethereal blade burned into his flesh, though he didn’t let out any hiss or cry of pain. He simply braced himself, pushing back against the downward strike.

“ _Harder,_ ” Maka pressed, her muscles emboldened by the combined Wavelength, stronger than they had ever been before.

“ _Sharper,_ ” Soul demanded, honing the crescent to an edge sharper than any razor, the Wavelength acting as his grindstone.

“ _CUT HIM IN HALF!_ ” they shouted as one-

And abruptly, it the world was gone. Lost.

Lost amidst a flood of emotion and memory.

_The boy sat alone, listlessly pressing the keys that he once loved so dearly-_

_The girl asked her Mama why she’d given her sister away-_

_He stared dumbfounded at the blade that had replaced his hand-_

_She asked Papa what ‘half-sister’ meant-_

_“Not quite as good as your brother-”_

_“Luz isn’t your Mama’s-”_

_“Your music is so lifeless these days-”_

_“He’s out with other women-!?”_

_“-Evans, don’t walk away from your-!”_

_“-ease, Makoto, I can explain-!”_

_“Soul-!”_

_“Maka-!”_

_“… please don’t leave…”_

He didn’t so much surface as he was gripped by the scruff and pulled out.

The Witch Hunter crescent shattered between Stein’s hands as his Soul Wavelength pulsed, interrupting their Soul Resonance and destroying it entirely, the shards falling to the ground; without the support, disorientated, confused, Soul and Maka lost their footing entirely, collapsing to the ground in a heap.

“… the Hell…?” he managed, returning to human form and gripping his skull.

“… agh, my head…” Maka whimpered, gripping her temples with both hands, curling in on herself.

“… you underwent a Resonance Backfire,” Stein flexed his fingers without so much as a wince, despite the more than evident burns on his palms, “It’s a fairly common occurrence in inexperienced Weapon and Meister pairs. You were so desperate to strike me down that you went in too deep, too quickly with your Soul Resonance, causing your Souls to flood each other. I could tell from how you both suddenly went vacant; I had to interrupt it for your own safety.”

“ _Our_ safety!?” Maka shouted, outraged.

“Yes,” Stein’s response was almost deadpan as he knelt, adjusting his glasses, “ _Your_ safety.”

“… can’t have the integrity of your test subjects compromised, can you?” Soul growled.

“No, though the experiment is almost over,” Stein raised a hand, “There’s only one last step for me to take.”

He extended it, reaching for Maka’s head; she flinched, trying to kick away, and Soul pulled himself in front of her, glaring up at the scientist with all the fury he could muster despite his exhaustion.

“You’re not touching my Meister while I’m still alive,” he snarled.

“… alright, fine,” Stein acquiesced, “I’ll start with you.”

Soul squeezed his eyes shut as the heavy hand came to a rest atop his head, waiting for the fingers to compress or the Soul Wavelength to hit him with full force.

Instead, the hand gently pushed his head back and forth, as if trying to ruffle his hair, but not entirely sure how to do so, as if such a gesture of affection were foreign to its owner.

Slowly, the Scythe opened his eyes, and he caught Stein’s beaming smile as the hand pulled back.

“Congratulations,” he declared, “You all pass.”

“… what?” Soul asked.

Stein rose to his feet, pulling out a phone, “… hm. A full two minutes and thirty seconds. You made me take longer on that than I thought.”

“… I don’t know if you didn’t hear me the first time or if you’re just stupid, so let me say that again,” Soul cleared his throat, “ _What!?_ ”

“Your extra lessons from Lord Death,” Stein explained, seeming surprised, as if it were perfectly obvious, “All four of you pass.”

“… I… but… I… we… _you killed Black Star!_ ” Maka shrieked, pointing at the body of the blue haired ninja.

“Oh, that?” he gestured; Sid had already propped Black Star up and was gently cleaning the blood off the boy’s face with a cloth, and checking his eyes with a small flashlight.

“His eyes are both reacting as normal, Doctor,” the zombie reported, “This is sure a lot of blood though.”

“Head wounds just tend to bleed a lot,” Stein explained, stepping over to Tsubaki and checking her pulse, “I was careful not to run my Soul Wavelength through his organs or central nervous system. He’ll be fine when he regains consciousness.”

“… he was fighting us with kid’s gloves,” Soul realized, voice weak, “I mean, I knew that, but… I didn’t… I…”

As her partner spiralled into incoherent mumbling, Maka got to her feet, jabbing a finger at the professor, “But what about Sid!? He’s dead! Capital D, small e, small a, small d, period!”

At this, Stein actually let out a laugh, and Sid nervously rubbed the back of his head, “… well… I’ve never been a man to lie, so… I… uh…”

Something inside the Scythe Meister’s head snapped, staring at Sid incredulously, “… are you… seriously telling me… that you… _let Stein kill you…_ all for the sake of these extra lessons?”

“… yes,” he admitted with a helpless shrug.

Slowly, Maka’s face fell into her hands as she groaned, “… Naigus is gonna kill you.”

“You know, Sid, there’s another way of going about this,” Soul grunted, getting to his feet, “It’s called ‘acting.’ You should try it sometime.”

“That’s another form of lying,” Sid crossed his arms, resolute, “I never told a lie when I was alive, and I’m not about to start now. That’s the kind of man I was.”

“Alright, alright, that’s enough,” Stein chuckled, picking up Tsubaki, “We can yell at Sid for his poor life and afterlife choices later. For now, you’re all pretty banged up; let’s get you inside, so I can take a look.”

“But what about the Three Stars that were dispatched?” Maka asked quickly, “What about them?”

“Oh, they were never sent out,” Stein noted offhandedly, “The test was supposed to end when you captured Sid and got my location out of him. When Black Star came after me, we all had to improvise.

“Still, I’d say it was a solid experiment. And besides,” he grinned, “It was sure fun messing with you guys!”

With that, he turned, and walked back into the lab, Sid trailing close behind with Black Star.

“… Maka?” Soul started.

“Yeah, Soul?”

“When we get home, don’t wake me up for the next _week._ Got it?”

“Don't wake me up for a _month._ ”

They sat in silence, the only sound being the wind.

“… well. What do we do now?”

“… we should probably be there for Black Star and Tsubaki when they wake up,” she surmised, crossing her arms, “Someone has to tell them it was just a big… Damn… setup.”

“You gotta admit that they got us pretty good,” he admitted.

“Shut up. Let’s go make sure Stein doesn’t turn Black Star into the world’s ugliest were-pomeranian or something stupid like that.”

“I thought you’d say that would be an improvement.”

“God, no, he’s yappy enough without adding annoying little dog to him.”

The duo slowly made their way out of the night air, and into the lab.

* * *

Day fourteen.

“… well,” Luz sighed, “This is it.”

“… yeah.”

They stood together on the sidewalk, Dad’s car already running; his suitcase had been packed and thrown in the trunk before he came to visit.

Likewise, all of Luz’s finals had been written. The final days of her school year, and her time with Papi, had come and gone.

“… I’m sorry I can’t wait for the bus with you, kddo,” he said, eyes downcast, “The only plane I could find with seats for today leaves in a couple hours, and I have to get through security.”

“It’s okay,” she forced a smile across her lips, “You were here as long as you could be. That’s what matters.”

He returned the look, his expression happy and somber as he opened his arms, offering a final embrace.

It only took her a second to accept it, wrapping her arms around him as tightly as she could, as if he would slip from her grasp and into the wind if she didn't.

“… _ojalá fuera contigo,_ ” she whispered, digging her fingers into his shirt.

“ _Lo sé, Corazoncita,_ ” he intoned, gently stroking her hair, “ _Lo sé._ ”

Eventually, the embrace broke; he gripped her shoulders, looking her in the eye, “You’re going to be okay. Understand?”

“… yeah,” she stated, though she wasn’t sure she believed it, “It’s just going to be a few weeks. I can make it through.”

“You know you can call me at any time, for any reason, right?”

“I know.”

He squeezed her shoulders, then looked up to Mami, “… goodbye, Camilia.”

“Drive safely, Spirit,” she smiled.

He nodded, then looked down at Luz one last time, “… time for me to go, Luz.”

She couldn't stop the well of tears that rose into her eyes, or the hiccup in her chest. She pressed her face into her hands, biting her tongue, trying to keep herself from breaking down.

“… I know,” he soothed, “I know.”

“… this ‘appens every time,” Luz managed, her sobs rising and breaking loose despite her best attempts to keep them in, “Every time…”

“You don’t want me to leave you behind,” he said, simple and true.

“I wanna… I wanna go with you…”

“I know.”

She tightened her grip; despite the grief, she was thankful to him for not giving her false reassurances, for not telling she could come with him, no matter how badly she wanted to hear it.

Slowly, she let go, stepping away, wiping her eyes and once again forcing a smile, managing to speak despite her wavering voice, “… call me as soon as you hit the ground, okay?”

He nodded, smiling, “I will, _Mija._ ”

He turned, and stepped into his car, still waving even as he pulled away. She returned the gesture, waving to him as he drove down the road, and around the corner, until he was out of sight.

Her arm fell, and she wrapped her arms around her stomach, lip still trembling.

Slowly, Mom approached, placing a hand on her shoulder, “… it’s going to be okay, Luz.”

“… it’s a lot harder to believe that with the one person who believes in me so far away,” she murmured.

“ _I_ believe in you,” Mami affirmed.

“… I know,” there wasn’t enough conviction behind her words.

“… Luz,” she began, “I need you to understand something, okay?”

“Yeah?” she raised her head, meeting her mother’s eyes.

“The world isn’t like the books that you read, regardless of where you are or who you surround yourself with,” she cupped Luz’s cheeks, “The fantasies that you love are just that. Fantasies. _Stories._ They hold truths, yes, but even when you strip away the magic and the Dragons, they aren’t fully compatible with real life. The world is a far more complicated place than the pages of a book, and all too often it won’t be understanding of your differences and eccentricities.”

“So, what?” she asked, “I should just… change myself to suit what other people want from me?”

“At the very least, you have to be willing to _adapt_ so that you won’t be left all alone,” Mami corrected, “You don’t have to change who you are, but you don’t have _any_ filter. And that has gotten you hurt before. I don’t want to see you keep getting hurt.”

“… isn’t the saying ‘Those who matter, will follow?’” Luz began, “‘Those who do not, will not?’”

“A rough paraphrasing,” the doctor sighed, “But it’s rarely so simple. This is a chance for you to make some _friends, Mija._ But only if you’re willing to _try._ ”

Luz reached into her bag, pulling out the book; the Good Witch Azura stared back at her from the cover, and like so many times before, she felt herself wishing she could dive into the pages.

“… please, Luz,” Mom pleaded, “For me?”

A long, sad, tired breath finally escaped the Latina; she looked back up, lips pulled tight, “… I’ll try.”

Her mother pulled her into a hug, warm and comforting.

Eventually, though, the phone buzzed; Mom pulled the phone out of her bag, clicking her teeth.

“… I have to get to work,” she mumbled.

“Duty calls, I guess,” Luz sat down, setting the book on the ground beside the trash bin, chin in her hands.

“Your bus is coming soon,” Mami smiled, leaning down to kiss her on the forehead, “Text me when you get there, alright?”

“I will,” she acknowledged listlessly, “ _Té amo, Mami._ ”

“ _Té amo, Mija._ ”

Luz didn’t look up as her mother’s footsteps faded into the distance. She simply took a breath, reaching for her book.

Only to find grass beneath her hand instead.

Her heart skipped a beat. Her eyes shot to the ground, where she had literally just put it down.

It was gone.

She was on her feet in an instant, looking all around the garbage can before throwing open the lid. Had _Mami_ thrown it away while she wasn’t looking?

No. No, Mom would _never_ do something like that. She might not have liked the Good Witch Azura, but she had _never_ thrown away anything Luz had wanted to keep.

Even so, she began rooting through the contents, paying absolutely no attention to the rank stench, “Where is it? Where _is it!?_ ”

A low hoot emanated from the ground.

She looked past the garbage can, and there sat a small owl, a bag in its beak, staring right up at her.

She blinked, and then her eyes shot to the purple cover of her book, pupils shrinking to the size of beads.

The owl then turned, and started hopping with impressive speed towards the treeline.

“ _Tiny trash thief!_ ” she shrieked, sprinting after it with her bag in hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. This is it.
> 
> This is the threshold.
> 
> This is the FINAL chapter before we hit Boiling Isles. WE FINALLY DID IT EVERYONE! THANK YOU FOR YOUR PATIENCE!
> 
> Also, yes, I have changed some of the mechanics of Soul Resonance, I have ever since I brought up Soul Wavelength mechanics and added mental conversations between Maka and Soul, and Black Star and Tsubaki. To be honest, I'm surprised memory bridging/thought transference/emotional sensing was never a thing in regards to Soul Resonance between partners, especially with how Team Resonance introduces something like telepathy between partner sets later in the series. So I decided to add some things, and I hope you like them. I really do.
> 
> Oh, and hopefully I'll have Kid, Liz and Patty in the story soon too. There just... hasn't been a good opportunity to really introduce them yet, so I'm hoping that will pop up too. Also more serious Blair.
> 
> Please be sure to leave your thoughts below! I hope you enjoyed the ninth chapter of Owls and Souls, Witches and Resonance!


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